


Darling, you left something at my place

by Aquien



Series: All my Darlings [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:05:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6335371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquien/pseuds/Aquien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Draco are assigned to do a potion together, but there is - of course - a slight mishap. Three months later, Harry is planning a life in crime while Draco is being annoyingly calm and reasonable about it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback is welcome - positive feedback inspires me to write more, and I hope the negative will be constructive so that I can learn from it and do better in the future. Thank you :)

_Early October_

 

“Potter and Malfoy,” Snape sounded oddly satisfied with himself, pairing up the two boys to work together. Really, Harry thought to himself, he had this strange glint in his eyes, like he was seriously getting his rocks off by pairing them together. He had no option but to comply though, and as Malfoy was sitting alone at his table, Harry went over to him just as Neville made his way to take Harry’s place beside Ron.

 

Malfoy didn’t even look up as Harry sat down. He just continued chopping the roots of the simila-blossom into perfectly identical pieces. They were to make a walk-a-mile-potion. Commonly used amongst arguing couples to get a glimpse into the other persons mind, to ‘walk a mile in each other’s shoes’ so to speak. Harry really couldn’t think of anyone he was less interested in taking that potion with, but that was what he was about to do though, in approximately one hour.

 

“Do you think you can manage to get some steamed lagro-leaves from the storage and then stir them together with these roots into the base-solution correctly, or are you as useless as you look?” Draco drawled, looking at him with thinly veiled contempt. Frowning at him, Harry went to get the leaves. Getting back, he found the roots ready, waiting beside the cauldron. Malfoy seemed to be busy on the next task, so Harry threw in the ingredients and started to stir.

 

“Are you out of your mind, Potter?” Malfoy’s irritated voice suddenly made him stop his stirring. “It’s three times counterclockwise, two clockwise, four counterclockwise, three clockwise and repeat three times and then the solution should turn pink if you’ve done it correctly. Not whatever it was that you were doing.” Feeling his face coloring, Harry concentrated on the task and at least thought he got the stirrings right. His mind drifted only a couple of times and the solution did turn pink - after he’d stirred a couple of extra times in random directions, but maybe he’d just counted them wrong. He decided to not mention it to Malfoy.

 

While Harry stirred the potion, Malfoy apparently had extracted the essence from an cogni seed. Adding that to the solution turned it light purple. Malfoy frowned at it, but just as he was about to say something, the potion simmered and settled to a full, deep purple color.

 

As the next step was to let it simmer for half an hour, until it turned yellow, there was nothing for them to do but wait.

 

 

***

 

 

Harry had actually thought something would be different about Malfoy this year, Voldermort being dead and all. Malfoy was as obnoxious as ever though, prancing about as if he owned the world. Of course having sufficient money to buy yourself and your whole family out of Azkaban probably helped. Lucius Malfoy had known exactly which pockets to grease after Voldemort’s fall, and because of that the whole family was enjoying pretty much the same standing as before the war. Sometimes there just wasn’t any justice to anything.

 

Thus, Harry had tried to accept that even if the threat that had been Voldemort was gone, things hadn’t actually changed much. Therefore he had been making an effort to avoid Malfoy and instead focusing fully on studying for his NEWTs. It had worked fine up until now, and Hermione had been happier than ever with his efforts to actually learn something this year.

 

Killing Voldemort had of course brought him fame, and with it had come an offer to join the Aurors even without his NEWTs. He didn’t want that though. He wanted to become an Auror the same way as anyone else - getting the NEWTs to qualify and then passing the entrance exams and the training. He didn’t want a free ride just because he’d killed a crazed dude with a snake fetish.

 

So, here he was, back at Hogwarts and back taking shit from Snape. He really needed to pass NEWT level Potions, but just as Malfoy was behaving as if the war had never happened, so was Snape.

 

“I know they say fame is blinding, but _really_ Potter? You should ask your fans to gather their resources to buy you a new pair of glasses, as your current ones are clearly useless. Make them throw in a new brain in the bargain as well, might take the opportunity to cure your stupidity at the same time.” Malfoy’s pratty voice cut through Harry’s musings and he saw the potion was now yellow and Malfoy was waiting to start the last phase - adding a strand of hair from each of them and then performing a stirring pattern that had to be done by the two of them working together in perfect, synchronized motions.

 

Feeling himself blush again for not paying attention, Harry joined Draco to start the stirring. Soon the potion was thinning and turning lighter, a sign that it was almost ready. A couple of minutes more and it looked like regular water.

 

Harry was waiting for Snape to come to check the potion, giving them the all clear to go ahead and test it. He wasn’t exactly keen on looking at the world from Malfoy’s perspective, but he needed a good mark from this exercise, so he had no choice other than to go through with it. Malfoy didn’t seem to plan on waiting though, as he was pouring the potion into two glasses.

 

“Shouldn’t we wait for Professor Snape to check it first?” Harry asked Malfoy, when the prat gave him one of the glasses.

 

“I am sure _you_ need to be checked for everything you do, but as some of us keep awake during the theory part, we actually know how to do things correctly the first time,” Draco sneered. Angrily, Harry took the glass. Whatever. Malfoy might be a prat, but Harry knew he was a prat skilled at Potions, so he figured they could just s well get this over with. At the same time as Draco, he emptied his glass.

 

 

***

 

 

He felt a strong lurch, sort of similar to using a portkey. Instead of getting whisked away somewhere far though, he felt a strong tug that pushed him together closely with Malfoy. Uncomfortably close, in fact. There had been no mention of this happening, of that he was sure. He might have dosed of just a little bit during the explanation though, so maybe it was still okay.

 

Before they could even try to move away from each other, there was a new lurch, this time he felt it in his lower abdomen. He thought he was getting sick. It was impossible to get away from Malfoy, and now it felt like his insides were wringing themselves inside out. Harry really didn’t think this had anything to do with getting to see things from Malfoy’s point of view. He didn’t have the strength to ponder it anymore though, as he felt a sharp jerk hit him deep inside.

 

At that last jerk he lost his footing, taking Malfoy with him as they tumbled down on the floor. Luckily, they seemed to get loose from whatever had held them together at the same time. Untangling their limbs from each other, they shakily got up on their feet.

 

“I guess we should have had Professor Snape check the potion after all,” Harry couldn’t help but commenting. Malfoy just glared at him in response.

 

“Twenty points from Gryffindor,” Snape said as he came over, looking down his nose at Harry.

 

“What? I didn’t do this potion all by myself you know!” Harry could barely contain his anger. As if failing this assignment wasn’t enough, he had to loose house points as well?

 

“As I know Mr. Malfoy knows how to make this potion perfectly, it is clear that you sabotaged it willingly. Be glad I don’t give you detention as well,” Snape snarled while Malfoy’s glare turned into a spiteful laugh.

 

Grumbling to himself, Harry gathered his things and joined Ron to head to Charms. Ron wasn’t that much happier, his and Neville’s potion had apparently failed all together as well.

 

* * *

 

 

_Two months later - the beginning of December_

 

Harry was on a binge. An as-much-asparagus-I-can-possibly-eat-binge. For some reason, he just couldn’t get enough of it. He’d even sneaked down to the kitchen and asked the house-elves to give him some so that he could eat it between meals. It didn’t make any sense. He hated asparagus - who didn’t? Still, he just had to have it.

 

* * *

 

_Christmas at the Burrow_

 

Mr. Weasley had bought a Muggle television set and had it installed for Christmas. With it, he had bought an old VCR and a set of VHS tapes. Watching Home Alone had Harry discreetly removing himself to go hide and bawl his eyes out. It was just so sad with that little kid who had to fight those criminals all by himself and why didn’t anyone come and take care of him and how could those parents not notice he was missing and and and… Harry really wished that they would watch a comedy next.

 

* * *

 

_Mid-January, back at Hogwarts_

 

“Harry mate, are you all right?” Ron asked, sounding worried. Harry looked up from under his bed.

 

“Sure I am. Why do you ask?”

 

“Uhm, because you are lying _under_ your bed?”

 

“Yeah well the mattress was too fluffy so my back started to hurt and then I didn’t want to be in anyone’s way so I figure there’s plenty of room under the bed.”

 

“Sure…” Ron sounded incredulous. Harry figured he had a reason. He didn’t really know why exactly he’d decided to sleep under his bed, but it had made sense at the time. He got up and headed to the bathroom before joining Ron and Hermione for breakfast.

 

“Do you want some ham, Harry?” Hermione asked, pushing the plate over to him as she spoke. Something about it smelled odd. He suddenly felt dizzy. Standing up clearly wasn’t a good idea though, as he felt himself heavily sit back down when his feet suddenly refused to carry him. Sitting back down brought the smell of the ham back close though and suddenly everything became foggy and then Harry felt himself black out.

 

 

***

 

 

Harry awoke in the hospital wing, a frowning Madam Pomfrey talking to a concerned looking McGonagall a little further away. Seeing he was awake, they both came to his bedside.

 

“Mr. Potter, do you know what happened to you?” McGonagall asked.

 

“I, uhm, felt ill from the ham and, uhm, fainted?” Harry asked, feeling embarrassed. He had fainted in front of almost all the students. He’d never hear an end of this from Malfoy and his cohorts.

 

“Yes, well, apparently there is a reason for that. Now I must ask you a question, it might seem strange, but try to answer it as truthfully as you can.” Harry nodded, he could do that.

 

“Did anything out of the ordinary happen to you in the beginning of October?”

 

“October? I don’t think so…” Harry started. He tried to think hard, but there had just been normal school-stuff. His life was finally quite normal now, with no Dark Lord to kill.

 

“Are you sure? You didn’t eat or drink anything strange? Run into any strange people? Think, Harry, was there something?”

 

“Well, there was that accident in Potions. I think it was in the beginning of October. The potion I drank didn’t turn out as it should have, but surely it didn’t do anything that odd either.” Madam Pomfrey’s head snapped up to attention at his words though.

 

“What potion did you intend to make?” she demanded to know.

 

“Uhm, the walk-a-mile-potion, I think.”

 

“And who did you do it with?” Madam Pomfrey asked sharply.

 

“Malfoy.”

 

“Please, excuse us for a second,” Madam Pomfrey said as she and McGonagall walked out of the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. What had happened? Did they think that potion had done something to him? Surely they would have noticed that earlier then tough.

 

He tried to keep calm as he waited, but sitting and waiting had never been his strong side. Soon he felt restless and decided to try and stand. They hadn’t said he was forbidden to do that, after all. He got up on shaky legs, but after standing a short while holding the bed post, he felt steadier.

 

He was standing by the window when Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall returned, followed by an angry looking Snape and a frowning Malfoy. Malfoy seemed as confused as Harry felt though. Madam Pomfrey led him to a bed and performed a spell on him - Harry couldn’t say for sure, but he thought it was an identifying spell the healers used to examine their patients.

 

After having done the spell, she came over to Harry who had returned to his bed after getting a stern look from McGonagall. She then cast a couple spells on him that Harry couldn’t say the purpose of.

 

After, the two teachers and the healer left Harry and Malfoy as they went to Madam Pomfrey’s office. Malfoy was glaring at Harry, as if this was all his fault. Harry glared back before he turned his back at the git. His craving for asparagus had given way for a mad desire to eat all the yogurt he could lay his hands on, and right now he felt ready to kill for it. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with a snotty brat.

 

 

***

 

 

“Gentlemen.” McGonagall sounded concerned, which didn’t bode well. “There seem to have been a problem with the potion you made in October.” What was even more concerning to Harry now was Snape’s lack of pointy comments about his potion-making skills. This was serious. Malfoy was looking at the teachers, still frowning.

 

“What do you mean there was a problem?” he demanded to know.

 

“You were tasked with making the walk-a-mile,” Snape drawled. “Seems that someone didn’t follow the correct instructions, using lafa-leaves instead of lagro-leaves, followed by an entirely wrong stirring sequence. Then you completed the mess-up by ingesting the potion without my approval” now he was glaring at Harry, who wanted to start to explain that he had wanted to wait for Snape to check the potion. There was no time though, as Snape continued. “Instead of making the walk-a-mile, it seems that you’ve managed to make the masculum generatia.”

 

Malfoy frowned at that, as if he had heard the name of the potion, but couldn’t place it. Harry, for his part, had no idea what it was about.

 

“That is a potion used by male couples who want to mix their genes and thus create offspring together,” Madam Pomfrey explained. At her words, Malfoy instantly paled and started to look faint and on the verge of panic. Harry felt he should understand the meaning of Madam Pomfrey’s words, but his brain just didn’t work. McGonagall seemed to notice.

 

“That means, Mr. Potter, that you are pregnant with your and Mr. Malfoy’s baby.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos ^_^

“Uhm, I’m a man. I don’t have a womb,” Harry told the others, feeling utterly confused, sure that this had to be some sort of joke. Although he didn’t think McGonagall or Snape would be of the joking kind. Still, there had to be some kind of misunderstanding.

 

“Yes, thereby the potion. As Madam Pomfrey explained, the masculum generatiua makes it possible for two males to conceive a child together. It works by creating a magical womb in one of the males and then the magically combined fetus grows therein” McGonagall seemed to do her best to sound calm as to not upset Harry. As if that was even possible to avoid. Pregnant? With Malfoy, of all people? This had to be some sort of nightmare. Maybe Voldemort wasn’t dead after all, and this was some new method of torture he had concocted for Harry. He was slowly driving Harry insane by trapping him in some weird, maddening illusion. At least Harry hoped that was the truth, because if this was really happening, he was screwed.

 

He was pregnant. There was a baby growing inside him. How on earth would it get out? He felt horror build inside of him. And how would he care for it? Would he grow boobs and produce milk and all that shite? How did you change nappies? And how would he get his NEWTs and go through Auror training with a baby to care for? What did you do with babies? What do babies _like_ to do?

 

Harry felt he was about to work himself into a full grown panic. His life was finally starting to get normal, after all these years, and now this? It wasn’t fair! He couldn’t care for a baby! How would he do this? He had his friends, but for how long when they went on with their lives as he was home raising a kid - changing nappies, burping, planning play dates…

 

“Breathe, Mr. Potter.” He felt McGonagall’s hand on his shoulder, a steady presence, calming him down. For a while he focused only on his breathing.

 

“Is there anyone you’d like to contact? Ask here for support?

 

“I don’t know… Maybe Sirius and Professor Lupin.” His godfather might be a little peculiar at times, but he and Professor Lupin were the closest thing Harry had for a family.

 

“So, you want to keep the baby then?” Madam Pomfrey suddenly asked. Harry looked at her. He hadn’t even considered any other option. He supposed he hadn’t planned for this, and it was all kinds of messed up, but still, it was a small human being growing inside him. He might not know a lot about babies, but no matter what, he knew that he’d do a better job raising the little one than the Dursley’s had done with him. And he’d always wished for a family. Maybe it didn’t happen the way he’d thought it would, but then again, things rarely did. Who knew, maybe Ginny would like it that he was the one to give birth to their firstborn?

 

The baby might be in for all kinds of awkward with a 18 year old dad who hadn’t even held a baby before, a 17 year old step-mom who might or might not want to be a part of it all and an ex-prisoner with a werewolf partner as the sort-of grandparents. Still, the baby was family, and Harry was not about to turn his back on them.

 

His determination must’ve shown on his face, because McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey seemed to just share a look and then the nurse left and headed for her office. At the same time, Snape must’ve decided that his presence wasn’t needed anymore either, as he too left. McGonagall turned to Harry.

 

“I’ll go and make the arrangement for Mr. Black and Professor Lupin to come visit you.”

 

“I assume you will make arrangement for living quarters for us at the same time.” Harry had completely forgotten about Malfoy. The git wasn’t the pregnant one, what was he still doing here? And what was he talking about?

 

“Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy? You both have your own dormitories.”

 

“Surely you do not expect me to move to live with the _Gryffindors_? I guess it would be okay for Harry to come down to the dungeons with me, but as the pregnancy progresses, he will need peace and quiet. I am sure you understand that.” Malfoy sounded like he was explaining the obvious, but Harry sure didn’t get a word of what he was saying. And what was up with calling him ‘Harry’ all of the sudden? McGonagall seemed almost as confused as well.

 

“I assure you, Mr. Potter’s needs will be taken care of. If he want a room of his own, we’ll arrange that, but that’s up to him. I don’t know why you would be involved?” Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at that.

 

“Did you forget, Head Mistress, that it is a _Malfoy heir_ he is carrying? I assure you, I will not let anyone else take care of _my husband to be_ when he is pregnant with our child.” His words must’ve made sense to McGonagall, as she suddenly seemed to realize something. Harry, however, felt like the world had stopped making sense altogether.

 

“Uhm…” Harry knew he was gaping at Malfoy. _What_ did the prat go on about now?

 

“Look Malfoy,” he started.

 

“Draco.” Malfoy interrupted.

 

“What?”

 

“Draco. As you are to be my husband, it is only proper that you call me by my given name.”

 

“Look, _Malfoy_ ,” Harry managed to continue, “I am not going to be your husband! Have you lost your mind?”

 

“You’re pregnant with my child. A Malfoy heir will not be born out of wedlock. It is bad enough the child was conceived before the bonding, but as the circumstances of that was exceptional, it is forgivable. We should begin planning the bonding ceremony as soon as possible though.”

 

“I’m not… You, you… I’m not getting bonded to you! Look, I understand you want to take responsibility and that’s really, uhm, nice and all, but really Malfoy,” Harry felt as panicked as he probably sounded.

 

“Draco,” Malfoy interrupted.

 

“Malfoy,” Harry persisted, “just go on with you life. Really. I’ll talk to Sirius and Lupin and they’ll help me out. Ginny probably will too. You don’t need to worry. You go on, marry some pure-blood you actually care about, have your heir with them.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not? You don’t even _like_ me! Let alone love me. I don’t like _you_!”

 

“Your point being what exactly?”

 

“We can’t get bonded!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because _we don’t love each other_!” Harry was almost shouting by now, while Malfoy was just standing there, calmly looking at him like he was some curious animal at a Muggle zoo.

 

“And that is relevant how exactly?”

 

“How is that..?” Harry almost started to stutter. What was wrong with the git? “You get married, or bonded or whatever, and raise children together because you _love each other_!”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean _no_?”

 

Malfoy sighed. It was the first sign of emotion Harry had seen since they started this farce of a discussion. McGonagall was standing quietly at the side, apparently having decided to let them talk it out.

 

“You get bonded because your parents have found you a suitable partner to conceive an heir with. Or, as in our case, because an heir is on their way and you do not let said heir be born out of wedlock.”

 

Harry felt his jaw drop again.

 

“But I don’t want to get bonded to you.”

 

“You have no choice.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I do”

 

“No, you don’t. It’s the law.”

 

“What? It’s the law that I have to get bonded to you?”

 

“The law clearly states that if a child is conceived, that is to be an heir to a pure-blooded house, the parents of said child are to be bonded, so that there will be no question of heritage - no bastards are allowed in pure-blood households.”

 

“I don’t care about your stupid pure-blood rules!” Harry felt like shouting again, and was pretty sure that he did do just that.

 

“It’s not a rule. It’s a law.”

 

“No it isn’t.”

 

“I can get you a copy of it. In fact, I can get you the original scroll from the Wizengamot ruling onto which it was recorded in the year 1374.”

 

“That’s over 600 years ago.”

 

“Yes. It’s a time honored law.”

 

“It’s outrageous! We don’t live in the middle ages anymore. No one can expect anyone to follow it anymore.”

 

“I assure you, it is upheld and honored by _all_ pure blood families.”

 

“I’m not pure blood.”

 

“Yes, I know. That is regrettable, but luckily the Potters were even though your mother’s blood did some serious damage to that. And the law still applies to you - you are expecting the child of a pure blood and that is what counts.”

 

“I don’t… I don’t believe this. This is stupid. I say this for the last time: I am _not getting bonded to you_! ”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

“Malfoy,” Harry did an effort to sound reasonable, “do _you_ want to be bonded to _me_?”

 

“What I want, or do not want, is irrelevant. I always knew I would have no choice as to whom I’m bonded to.” Malfoy stated it as a matter-of-fact, not showing any emotion. He was driving Harry insane. There just wasn’t any reasoning with that crazy pure blood logic. Harry tiredly rubbed his temples.

 

“Do you have a headache?” Malfoy asked sharply. “You need to rest. I’ll take care of the formalities. Do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey for you? Maybe a house-elf should be tasked to bring you something to eat, or extra pillows?”

 

“What? I don’t need Madam Pomfrey, and I don’t need you to take care of anything! I…”

 

“Gentlemen, if I may interrupt?” They both turned to look at McGongall, who looked at them with a worried expression. “May I suggest that we contact Mr. Black and Professor Lupin on your behalf, Mr. Potter, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy as well? Then you can all meet and talk about your situation. Until we can get them here, however, you, Mr. Potter, will stay at the Gryffindor Tower and you, Mr. Malfoy, down at the Slytherin dungeons. It might take a day or even two to get it all arranged. I will inform you when I know when everyone will be here. As for today, you are both excused from your morning classes, but you will be expected to attend classes after lunch. That will give you two hours to rest.”

 

Malfoy looked as he was about to argue, but then he gave one firm nod in agreement. Harry nodded as well, somewhat more sullenly. No discussion ever was going to get him to agree to _bond_ with Malfoy.

 

As he was to leave the hospital wing, Malfoy went ahead, holding up the door for him. What, he’d killed the prat’s beloved Dark Lord, but now he thought that he wasn’t able to open a friggin’ door just because he was pregnant? Harry glared furiously at Malfoy, who didn’t even flinch in response. Instead, as Harry made his way toward the Gryffindor tower, he found Malfoy walking just a couple of steps behind him.

 

“Do you need a hand?” his annoying shadow asked him.

 

“I think I can manage a couple of stairs, Malfoy.” Harry suspected the glare on his face would soon become permanent.

 

“Draco,” Malfoy stated calmly. Yes, the glare was certainly becoming permanent. Harry stalked up the stairs, Malfoy following closely behind. As he reached the portrait, he looked pointedly at Malfoy. Quirking an eyebrow, he took a step back to show he didn’t intend to “accidentally overhear” the password. Harry made sure to whisper it anyway and when the Fat Lady opened the portrait hole, he stomped inside, making sure the entrance to the tower closed behind him, leaving Malfoy outside.

 

He stomped through the empty common room up to his dorm. Once there, he threw himself down face-first on his bed. He was determined never to move again. Ever. At least not until this nightmare ended and he could go back to his old life, the one that made sense.


	3. Chapter 3

A house-elf brought Harry a plate with food for lunch. He didn’t know who had sent the creature, but was grateful he didn’t have to face any other students for lunch yet. Going to Charms would be hard enough. Facing Potions in the afternoon with Malfoy there seemed like an impossibility.

 

He was friggin’ pregnant. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of a male getting pregnant before, but of course there would be a magical way to achieve that. And of course he would end up accidentally using that way and make even more of a freak out of himself than he already had been all his life. To top it all of, Malfoy seemed to actually expect them to get married. Or bonded, seemed to be the term they preferred in the wizarding world. Whatever. As if Harry didn’t have enough to deal with already.

 

He lay face down on the bed, sulking. He could already imagine the reactions. The press. The media-circus following the death of Voldemort and Harry’s involvement had finally calmed down, but him being pregnant with the child of a Death Eater was sure to stir them all up again. Bloody hell!

 

He didn’t even want to start to imagine the reactions of his friends. Or those of all the other students. How they would look at him, and probably start to act all weird. He hated it already and he hadn’t even told anyone yet.

 

The alarm he’d set went off. He had to get going to class. Feeling absolutely miserable, he tried to get himself together and not let it show. As far as everyone else knew, he’d just had the flu and had fainted because of that. For a little while longer, Harry wanted to pretend everything was normal.

 

That little while ended, as he stepped out of the portrait hole. Malfoy was standing on the opposite side of it, leaning against the wall. When he saw Harry, he straightened up.

 

“You got your food? I didn’t know what you like, so I told the house-elf to bring you a little bit of everything.”

 

Harry felt he should have known it was Malfoy that had sent him his lunch. That seemed to fit this new, weird behavior of his. He’d be damned if he was going to thank him though. So he settled back to his glare from earlier. Malfoy didn’t seem to be surprised or even upset though. That made Harry glare even harder at the git.

 

He made his way to Charms, Malfoy following. Was he really going to follow Harry everywhere now? Harry felt his anger building. He’d made his best to avoid the snobby git this far into the school-year, and he really couldn’t stomach having him shadow him like this.

 

“Could you please quit following me around like a lost puppy, Malfoy?” he finally snarled.

 

“No. It is my duty to see to it that you’re safe and well. And it’s Draco now, remember.”

 

“Your _duty_? I… That’s… I’m not having you follow me around everywhere just because you’ve lost your bloody mind due to some obscure pure blood laws!”

 

“As you are my husband to be, and you are carrying my child, it is my duty and I am going to uphold it.”

 

“I am _not_ marrying you Malfoy!” Harry hissed. “I might be carrying our child, but I will not be bonded to you in any way. Get that through that thick, pointy head of yours now will you!”

 

“It is the law.”

 

“You can go to fucking hell with your bloody laws you friggin’ pure blood twat!”

 

Malfoy sighed, but refrained from answering. As Harry stormed off in the direction to class, he noticed that the stupid prick was still shadowing him.

 

When he reached the classroom, Draco stepped forward and held up the door for him, before he could stop him. Luckily, no one saw it though and Harry set his face to as neutral a look as he could manage. At least Malfoy would have to leave him alone for now, as he had class of his own.

 

Sitting down next to Ron and Hermione, he knew that his neutral face hadn’t been that successful.

 

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Hermione looked worried.

 

“Nothing.” Harry didn’t feel like explaining this yet. He just wanted everything to be back to normal for a short while at least.

 

“Mate, you look like hell,” Ron, always the blunt one.

 

“I said it’s nothing. Now would you shut the bloody hell up?!” Harry barely managed to contain his voice to a whisper. Looking at the shocked faces of his friends though, he felt a twist of guilt. “Look, I’m sorry. I just got some difficult news, but I really don’t want to talk about that right now. I’ll tell you later, but can we please just pretend everything is normal for now?” he hated how pleading his voice sounded, but couldn’t help it. He was feeling desperate.

 

Ron and Hermione shared one of those looks all couples seemed to have. The one that made it seem that they communicated telepathically.

 

“Okay,” Hermione then said with a small smile, Ron nodding his agreement. True to their word, they held their curiosity and worry in check. Harry focused on Flitwick’s instructions as he worked on perfecting the papilionicharm they had been working on this week. For a while, he could actually pretend that everything was normal.

 

 

***

 

 

When they left Charms, Malfoy was, of course, waiting outside.

 

“What’re you doing here, Malfoy?” Ron growled.

 

“Weasley. Granger.” Malfoy replied with a nod at Harry’s friends before just quietly regarding Harry. Harry was not dealing with this now. Adopting his now familiar glare, he turned his back at the prat and headed down to Potions. Knowing Malfoy would be there was not doing anything to lift his mood.

 

Ron and Hermione seemed thrown back by Malfoy’s cordial behavior towards them, and by Harry’s glare in response. Their confusion didn’t lessen when Malfoy started to trail behind them down to Potions.

 

“Harry, why is Malfoy following us?” Ron finally asked.

 

“Don’t ask.”

 

“But…”

 

“I said, do _not_ ask!” Harry really wasn’t in a mood to discuss Malfoy right now. In fact, he would be perfectly happy with never, ever discussing Malfoy.

 

When they reached the Potion’s classroom and Malfoy once again reached ahead of Harry to hold the door open, Ron and Hermione’s jaws drop simultaneously while Harry started to plot murder. This was just great. Spectacular even.

 

Stomping into the classroom he made it to where he usually sat only to find that Malfoy had somehow gotten there ahead of him and was now _holding out the chair_ for Harry in an infuriatingly calm manner. That was it. Harry had had it. He might be pregnant, but he was not helpless and he sure as hell could sit down without any damned assistance from _Malfoy_! Harry felt like he exploded.

 

“For the last time Malfoy, I am NOT going to marry you!” he roared. At his words, everyone except Malfoy froze. Malfoy just quirked that one eyebrow in his usual manner, while continuing to calmly hold out Harry’s chair. With a snarl, Harry threw himself down in Hermione’s chair instead, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on him.

 

“You’re carrying my child. The Malfoy heir. We are going to be bonded.” Malfoy stated calmly for everyone to hear. This was just great. Harry guessed he’d started it by shouting about marriage, but this was still not how he had thought he’d tell the world he had reached all new levels of freak.

 

“He’s carrying your heir, Draco?” Parkinson asked.

 

“Yes. It’s a result of that Potions-accident three months ago. Still, the law is clear,” Draco replied. Parkinson and the rest of the Slytherins - and to Harry’s horror most of the Gryffindors as well - nodded in understanding. Ron paled, but seemed to know what they were talking about as well, while Hermione and Dean seemed the most confused.

 

“So, who’s your maid of honor and best man? Granger and Weasley, I presume?” Parkinson suddenly asked him. He turned his glare at her for a change. Just as Malfoy, she didn’t even flinch. Must be a Slytherin thing, Harry thought.

 

“Yeah,” Ron answered in his stead. Harry turned his head sharply at his best friends. “What? Are you saying we are _not_ going to get the honors?” the traitor asked him.

 

“There will be no bonding! I am not marrying Malfoy! Has the whole world gone friggin’ insane?”

 

“Mate, I’m sorry, but it’s the law.”

 

“It’s a stupid law.”

 

“Yeah. But it still _is_ the law. Stupid or not.”

 

Harry couldn’t believe it. Even Ron thought he actually should get bonded to Malfoy? And why hadn’t anyone reacted to the news of _him_ being pregnant?

 

He was faintly aware of Hermione talking to Neville, apparently asking about the law, with a deep frown forming on her face. At least she wasn’t happy about this all. Good, ol’ Hermione. She would find him a way out, of that he was sure.

 

“So, Granger and Weasley are going to be your maid of honor and best man then?” Parkinson repeated her question. Harry repeated his glare. “I already know me and Blaise are going to be Draco’s. It’s been decided years ago. As I gather this will be a spring wedding,” she turned a questioning glance at Malfoy, who nodded in response, “we really need to hurry up and get together with our counterparts from your side to plan our parts in the ritual.”

 

Harry glared at her some more.

 

“He’s kinda cute when he’s hormonal, isn’t he?” Harry found Zabini looking at him levelly.

 

“I know, right. Who would’ve guessed?” Parkinson. Harry included her in his plans for murder.

 

“That’s it.” Harry rose to his feet. “Voldemort is alive, I didn’t kill him, I went insane instead and now the bastard is playing friggin’ mind games with me. But I’m still not going to marry Malfoy!” He shouted that last part. He seemed to be doing a lot of shouting today. He figured that was only expected though - either he was really crazy or the whole world had gone insane. Either way, he felt some shouting on his part was justified. Particularly when he looked around and found that most of the others were looking at him like he was the cutest thing ever. Like he was just a sweet, little kitten making a fuss.

 

“You know Draco, it’s cute and all, but you really have to do something about your fiance's vulgar attitude,” Zabini sounded faintly amused.

 

“I know, but it’s expectable to be a little off during pregnancy, I understand,” Draco replied. “You really should calm down Harry. This kind of tantrums aren’t good for the baby you know,” he held out the chair for Harry again. Still ignoring him, Harry took Hermione’s place again. He buried his face in his arms. This was not happening.

 

“I’m really sorry mate,” Ron spoke to him with an uncharacteristically soft voice. Somehow, that made Harry even more angry. “There really is no way out. It’s a stupid law, I know. There have been motions to annul it, but the pure bloods are still very strict about upholding it and have made it impossible. So the law still stands, I’m afraid.”

 

A hand touched his shoulder, and then Hermione spoke. “I’ll research it for you, of course, but I spoke with Neville. It sounds like Ron’s right. I’m so, so sorry, Harry.” Harry didn’t even look up. Hermione paused, before cautiously continuing. “Harry, what are you doing?”

 

“Planning my life in crime,” he wished he was kidding, but right now he really felt like committing murder would be a good start at his new career.

 

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione cried in sympathy, putting her arm around his shoulders, drawing him close in a hug. Like hugging was going to help.

 

“Congratulations Harry. And Malfoy, I guess.” Harry snapped his head up, looking at Neville. “For the baby,” his friend clarified. “I’m sure _you_ are going to be a great parent,” he made a point at looking only at Harry while saying that last part. Neville’s words worked as some sort of catalyst though, and soon everyone was congratulating him and Malfoy. Harry decided to include Neville in his murderous plans.

 

Just about then, Snape walked in, putting a stop to the commotion. Harry had never before in his life been so happy to see him.

 

 

***

 

 

An hour later, Harry wanted to kiss Snape. Seriously. There had been some whispers, but the Potion Master had firmly quelled them, in addition to keeping such strict order that no one even dared to look at Harry. Harry figured he’d elope with Snape after killing everybody else.

 

Then Harry thought he really must’ve gone mad.

 

He started to wonder if there really was some truth to the hormones-thing, but silenced that thought quickly. He was not going to be ruled by some bloody pregnancy-hormones!

 

He continued to plan his life together with the Potion Master, who’d keep everyone away from Harry forever. Who’d keep everyone from looking at him, talking to him or even breathing near him.

 

Yes, he’d definitely elope with Snape.

 

 

***

 

 

When Snape asked him and Malfoy to stay after class and informed them that the Head Mistress had been able to arrange the meeting with Sirius, Lupin and Malfoy’s parents to take place as soon as this evening, Harry decided to put Snape on the kill-list as well. Kill the messenger was the rule after all.

 

 

***

 

 

Both Sirius and Lupin embraced Harry when he met them later that evening in the Head Mistress’s rooms. They didn’t say much though, as they all sat down. All the Malfoy’s and Head Mistress McGonagall were already seated.

 

“As you have all been informed, there was a mishap in Potions in October, and a masculum generatiua was ingested. As a result, Harry is now pregnant with his and Draco Malfoy’s child,” McGonagall started the meeting, straight to the point.

 

“Yes, but what I do not understand is the urgency of this meeting. We will be quite busy, preparing for the bonding-ceremony, and although officially welcoming Mr. Potter to the family is an important part of that, I don’t understand why it needed to happen this very day.” Lucius Malfoy looked annoyed.

 

“I am NOT marrying Malfoy!”

 

“It is the law.” Malfoy Sr.’s voice suffered no arguments. Harry was damned if he would give up though. This was ridiculous.

 

“Look,” he started. “Let’s just agree the child is all mine. All Potter. I’ll take care of all their future needs, no need for anyone to know about their other parent. Then you can bond your son to someone more suitable and get an heir. I’ll guarantee that this child will not make any trouble for you, asking for inheritance or anything like that.”

 

“And how, may I ask, will you guarantee, that say ten generations from now, the offspring of this child will not cast a spell to find out their bloodline, thus finding out they have Malfoy blood and then come to stake a claim?” Harry didn’t know what to say, so Malfoy Sr. continued. “This is why the law exists. Not only to protect the present heir, but to protect all future heirs from the confusion of illegitimate offspring.”

 

“Sure there are other illegitimate children?” Harry asked. “Someone that had someone at the side and got a little carried away and didn’t take the necessary precautions?” Harry felt that he had found the perfect argument, until he saw the looks on the Malfoys’ faces. They all looked shocked by his suggestion.

 

“Are you suggesting that a pure-blood - a _Malfoy_ no less - would be unfaithful?” Malfoy Sr. sounded absolutely horrified by the idea. Harry suddenly didn’t feel so sure about his argument.

 

“Surely someone has at some point been. I mean, especially if they were forced into a bonding with someone they didn’t even like. Surely, if you mean to force _your son_ into a bond with _me_ , you wouldn’t expect him to be faithful to me, now would you?”

 

“Of course I would be!” Malfoy actually sounded offended. And serious.

 

“A Malfoy would never even consider anything else,” Malfoy Sr added. “I don’t know how it was among those people that you grew up with and socialize with, but a Malfoy would never betray his or hers bonding vows.”

 

Harry felt stunned. He felt the world crushing in on him. This just couldn’t be happening. A hand came to rest on his shoulder. He turned around and looked into Sirius’ eyes. They were sad, but calm. “Harry. I know this isn’t something you’ve wished for. But there really isn’t anything else to do. I’m sorry. Me and Remus will be here for you, and we will still be your family, but we can’t do anything about this. No matter how appalling it might be.” He said the last part with a glare at the Malfoys.

 

Suddenly, Harry just had to get away. He got up and run out. No one stopped him.

 

He didn’t stop running until he felt cold air hit his face. He didn’t have his warm cloak with him and it was freezing, but for the moment he really needed this. He needed the chill to calm him down. He walked over to a bench next to the Hogwart’s main entrance and sat down.

 

He hadn’t sat there for long, when he sensed someone sitting down next to him. He didn’t look at them, figuring it was Sirius or Lupin, coming out to talk to him. For a moment, they just sat there quietly. Then he felt a hand on his arm. As he looked at it, he realized it belonged to a woman. He turned and looked into the eyes of Narcissa Malfoy.

 

She smiled at him tentatively. He just looked at her. Somehow, he just couldn’t muster up any of his anger to throw at her.

 

“I am sorry, that you feel like this,” she spoke in a quiet, but sincere voice. “To us pure-bloods, who have been raised in this system, it is natural. Sometimes we forget that it is not so for everyone. Sometimes it is hard for us to even imagine that things could be done any other way. I am sorry, that this is hard for you. I am sure that this all is very confusing - not only are you being forced into a bonding, but you are also expecting a child. Something that is not easy for anyone, and you didn’t choose that either. You must feel so many emotions right now, and with no chance to just go through them in peace without being told what to do and what will be your life now. I am not sorry, however, to have you as a part of my family. Our family. I hope that with time, you will become at peace with us as your family as well. If not for any other reason than for the sake of the child that you are carrying.”

 

Harry just stared at her, not really believing that this was Narcissa Malfoy saying these kind and understanding words to him. It was actually the first really caring words he had heard on the subject. Everyone else had just told him that they were sorry, but this just was what he would have to do. No one else had even tried to put themselves in his place and feel what he was feeling.

 

Suddenly he felt all the anger leave him. Instead he felt tired. Narcissa put her arm around him and drew him into a close hug. At first Harry stiffened, but then he felt himself start to relax. The world might have gone all insane around him, but for now he relaxed. For now, he stopped fighting. At least he would finally have a family. Not one he would have chosen, but then again, no one ever really choose their family, do they?


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry and Narcissa returned inside, they found that the others had been working on a compromise. It wasn’t one that made Harry jump up and down from happiness, but by now he figured it was as good as it would get. He’d still have to get bonded with friggin’ Malfoy and join the family of Death Eaters-extraordinaries, but until then he’d at least get to stay up in the Gryffindor Tower with his friends. After that, he’d have to move to private quarters with the git.

 

The thought of actually living with Malfoy made his stomach want to turn inside out. At least he’d put that off by two whole months now. Harry decided then and there to be a live-in-the-moment fellow. He’d live in the now, hoping something would turn up that overthrew the future that was now before him in all of it’s nightmarish glory.

 

Two months, and then he’d be bonded to Draco Malfoy. Apparently, the Malfoys had wanted to put the bonding at one month from now, but Sirius and Lupin had gotten them to agree to two months, “to give Harry a chance to get better used to the idea,” as they put it. Harry figured he wouldn’t get used to it even if he was given two millennia to prepare, but knew that it was useless to argue. Instead, he spent the rest of the meeting sulking in protest.

 

 

***

 

 

It was two hours later, when the meeting was over and Harry finally got to return to the Gryffindor Tower. Having said goodbye to his godfather and Professor Lupin, he was deep in thought when walking up the stairs. So deep in thought in fact, that he at first didn’t even notice Malfoy trailing along behind him. He was just getting up the second set of stairs, when his shadow became apparent to him again. He stopped abruptly.

 

“Malfoy. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we just agree that for two more months I get to stay at Gryffindor, while you are staying way down there in the dungeons?” Harry asked with as much calm he could muster.

 

“It’s Draco. And regrettably yes. I will not, however, let you walk around unattended for. I will be at the ready to take care of you and our unborn child. I will not step back from my duty,” the git stated looking straight at Harry. Harry felt like strangling him. He thought he probably would, before the two months were over. After that, actually living with Malfoy… Well, he would definitely strangle the git then.

 

He stalked away, Malfoy at his heels.

 

 

***

 

 

There was a certain satisfaction in seeing the portrait hole close, leaving Malfoy on the outside. Finally! Harry drew a deep breath of relief before he turned and had a look around the Gryffindor common room. Suddenly, private quarters didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

 

The room had been so quiet, that he had thought it deserted. Apparently though, it was possible to get all the sixth, seventh and eight year students to actually shut up if you got pregnant with Malfoy’s child. Everyone was just standing around the room, staring at him without saying a word. Just as Harry thought he’d walk through the mass of Gryffindors and up to his dorm, Ginny stepped forward.

 

“Is it true?”

 

“Uhm…” Harry knew what she meant, but didn’t really feel like getting into it with all the audience they had. Ginny didn’t seem to share that concern though.

 

“You didn’t think I’d deserve to hear it from you then? You know, when your boyfriend gets pregnant by another, and then is to get bonded to them, you’d think he’d at least tell it himself!”

 

“I… I didn’t get a chance. I mean, uhm…” Everyone was looking at him. Truth be told, he had completely forgotten about Ginny. He couldn’t tell her that though. Everything had just been so messed up. It was only this morning that he found out about it all and since then… Well he guessed he had had time to tell her, but he had just been so overwhelmed. That was only natural, wasn’t it? Not everyday you find out that you’re pregnant and the world’s biggest git is the father. How would he tell Ginny that so that she would understand though?

 

He just looked at her helplessly.

 

“I just…” Ginny started to yell, but then she abruptly stopped and closed her eyes instead, all energy seeming to drain out of her. “I’m so sorry. I know this must be even worse for you. You have to get bonded to that, that, _that Malfoy_!” she started to sob then, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry Harry! I’m sorry I made a big deal out of you not telling me. It’s just that I really wish that I at least could have been there for you, you know. I really wish I would have heard it from you. Most of all, I really wish this hadn’t happened.”

 

“I really wish that too, Ginny,” Harry told her quietly and just held her close. He was wondering when their classmates would start to pass popcorn around, as they were watching them like they were the greatest show to ever happen.

 

“Oh Harry,” Ginny pulled away a little, putting her hand up to softly stroke his cheek. “How are you doing?”

 

“I’m about to get bonded to Malfoy and have his baby. How do you think I’m doing?” he growled at her. “Do we have to have this talk here?” At the last word, he looked pointedly at all the people surrounding them.

 

“Oh,” Ginny blushed. “Guess we’d better talk tomorrow instead, Harry. We’ll take our lunch together and go find us somewhere quiet to talk, okay?”

 

“Sounds great,” it actually did. Ginny had a temper, but she had always understood him in a way no one else did.

 

He glared at all the spectators, most of whom didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed, and hugged Ginny again, before walking up to the dorms, ignoring everyone else. He just didn’t have the time for their nosiness.

 

 

***

 

 

Malfoy had been waiting for him in the morning and had followed him around all day. When they didn’t have classes together, he somehow still managed to be there in between them. Giving up trying to get rid of him, Harry instead made a point of ignoring him.

 

Meeting Ginny in the Great Hall, they took with them some food and were just making their way to find some place quiet, when someone put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, urging him to stop. It was of course Malfoy.

 

“And where exactly do you think you are heading with _her_?”

 

“We’re going to go have lunch and talk. In private.” Harry empathized the last word.

 

“I think not.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“She is your ex. It is not prudent of you to be alone with her.” Malfoy glared at Ginny. Ginny blushed, looking lie she wanted to rage at him, but did her best to keep quiet instead.

 

“Look, Malfoy. I really need to talk this out with her. You can’t expect me to one day be in a relationship with her and then the next day be about to be bonded with you because of an accident, and not even talk about it with her. And she is still part of my family. So you better get used to it.”

 

Malfoy looked at them for a short while. “Okay,” he finally said. “But I’m coming with you.” When Harry started to protest, he held up one hand. “I am coming with you, but,” he sighed, clearly not wanting to say whatever it was he was about to say. “I will cast a _silencio_ around myself. I’ll see you, but I won’t hear you. Okay?”

 

After looking at Draco a moment longer, Harry nodded shortly and turned to Ginny, who also nodded, although somewhat sullenly.

 

 

***  
  


 

Making themselves comfortable in the two chairs in the alcove they’ve found, Harry and Ginny did their best to ignore Malfoy. Glaring at them, but true to his word, he cast a silencing spell around himself before leaning against the wall opposite to the pair.

 

“So,” Ginny began tentatively. “How are you doing, Harry? Really?”

 

Harry sighed. “Just peachy. You know, I’ve always dreamed about being pregnant. Really, Ginny? You know, not one person have seem the least bit confused about me being pregnant. People do know I’m male right?” That might not have been what Ginny had meant, but it had been bothering the hell out of Harry. When he had tried to approach others about the subject, they had just been giving him patronizing smiles.

 

Ginny looked at him curiously for a moment. “You really find that odd, don’t you? Huh. Don’t Muggles have a way to assist male’s to become pregnant?”

 

“No!”

 

“How then do Muggle homosexual couple’s become parents?”

 

“They usually adopt, I think. I haven’t actually thought about it that much. Geesh, Ginny. Focus. Are you actually telling me, that in the wizarding world, it is normal for males to be pregnant?”

 

“Sure. I mean, the potion to achieve that have been around for centuries.”

 

“Centuries? So wizards have been okay with homosexual couples for that long too then?”

 

“Why on earth wouldn’t homosexual couples be okay?” Ginny looked genuinely puzzled and a bit shocked.

 

“Well, I don’t know exactly. I just know that many Muggles think that homosexuality is a sin or unnatural.”

 

“What? That’s terrible narrow-minded of them!”

 

“Yeah, I guess it is. I haven’t actually thought that much about it, since I was too young to actually be that interested before I left for Hogwarts. And after that, well, I have been quite busy. I just know that some Muggles are really prejudiced toward people with other sexual orientations - or gender identities for that matter - than they think people should have. And male’s do not get pregnant!”

 

“You know, I do like Muggles, but they have some strange ideas at times, don’t they?”

 

“Yeah.” They both sat quiet for a while.

 

“So,” Harry finally continued, “that’s why no one has made a big deal out of me being pregnant then. I mean, about that I’m a man and pregnant. They sure have made a big deal out of the pregnancy otherwise. People seem to think that I’m suddenly all weak and helpless.” Harry said that last thing with a furrowed brow. Malfoy was, without a doubt, the worst, but _really_ … Even in class, when Malfoy wasn’t there, he couldn’t even drop a quill without having at least five of his classmates struggling to be the first one to reach it and give it to him. It was getting increasingly annoying.

 

“Yeah,” Ginny smiled, “so it’s been really bad then?”

 

“In Defense against the Dark Arts today, they made me sit in a corner behind protection spells the whole time.” Harry got angry again just thinking about it.

 

“Well, yes. Harry, I know you’re more than capable to even teach that class, but you’ve got to remember that you can’t think of only yourself anymore. You have a little someone to think about too.” Ginny was right, but that didn’t make Harry feel the least bit better. It must’ve showed on his face. Ginny reached out to take his hand in hers. “Harry. I’m so, so sorry. I do know you’ll make a great parent though. I’m not so sure about him though,” she added with a nod in Malfoy’s direction, who was looking at their joined hands with a look like he was ready to kill. Harry didn’t care.

 

“How…” Harry’s resolve to ask failed and he had to pause to draw a deep breath before starting again. “How are you handling that? You know, me having to get bonded to Malfoy?”

 

Ginny looked away for a moment, clearly uncomfortable. She was a true Gryffindor though, and after gathering her courage for a moment, she turned back and looked Harry in the eyes. “I feel sorry that you are forced into this bond. You deserve the right to choose who you’re bonded to. As to what I feel personally… Harry, I love you, I do. You know that. I’ve been trying to get my head all straightened out and talk to you for some time though, because, I don’t know about us being us. I love you, but I don’t think I love you like a boyfriend. I think, I love you more like a best friend. Like a brother maybe, although I do tend to fight more with my brothers than with you. When I heard about you and Malfoy, I was hurt because I didn’t hear it from you, but other than that? The fact that in other ways than that, hearing about it didn’t hurt, was what finally made it clear for me that even without all this happening to you, I don’t think we would have been together for long. I don’t think it would have been right for me or for you. I’m sorry.”

 

Harry listened to her long speech without saying a word. When she finished, he put his head in his hands to think for a moment. What did her words made him feel? He had thought they’d be together forever. She’d give him the family he’d always wanted. Through her, he’d be officially a part of the rest of the Weasley-family as well. He loved her, of that he had no doubt. Was there truth to her words though? Was his love for her more like the love he had for Hermione or Ron? Or as the love for a sister he’d never had? He just couldn’t say.

 

He felt a hand on his arm. He looked up. Ginny was crouching beside him, a worried look on her face. He smiled at her tentatively.

 

“I guess I know what you’re saying Gin,” he heard himself say, and knew the words were true. “I just wish things were different. I just wish I could marry my best friend.” He smiled at her and she reached forward to embrace him.

 

“Get your hands off my fiance.” Draco was suddenly standing next to them, looking murderous. Ginny and Harry both startled, they had almost forgotten he was there.

 

“We were just hugging as friends Malfoy. Ease off already.” Harry stood glared at him.

 

“This is not prudent.”

 

“Like I care. I hug my friends. Deal with it.”

 

“She’s your ex.”

 

“She’s my friend.”

 

“I’m sorry Malfoy.” Harry looked at Ginny in surprise. She turned then, to look at Harry. “He’s right, you know. I am your ex, and it was only yesterday morning that I still were your actual girlfriend. We should at least have talked it over with him first.” She turned back to Malfoy. “So I’m truly sorry. But Harry is right, I am his friend. That won’t change, and I hope you’ll learn to be okay with that.” Malfoy looked at her for a moment before acknowledging her words with a short nod. He then stepped back to lean against the wall again, but Harry noticed that he didn’t put up a _silencio_ this time.

 

“Harry, I’ll be here for you if you need anything. If you want to talk. About anything. I hope you know that.”

 

“Sure Gin. I’ll be here for you too, you know. I might be pregnant, but no matter what people might think, you don’t need to walk on egg shells around me. I can still be here for you. I can still function like a normal human being.” He glared over at Malfoy, making sure the git heard those last words. If he did, he didn’t show it though.

 

Ginny smiled. “I know Harry. But do take care of both yourself and the little one.” She paused, her eyes suddenly glistening with curiosity. “Do you know if its a boy or a girl already?”

 

“No,” Harry glared at her. This conversation was taking a turn he really didn’t appreciate.

 

“Harry. Don’t be a brat. You’ve gotta accept this.”

 

“I know. But Gin, this is only the second day that I know about this! Why can’t anyone seem to understand to give me at least a little bit of a settling period? Why can’t people see that I’d really wish that they at least treat me as normal for a little while longer? I’m not even showing yet, for Merlin’s sake! It was just yesterday that I learned that males can get pregnant, that _I_ am pregnant, and people expect me to be all okay and fine and normal with it already?” He was almost shouting now. Ginny colored, and to his astonishment, Harry saw that Draco’s cheeks got a little tint of red as well. Ginny nodded though, and didn’t ask anything else.

 

Together, they ate their forgotten lunch in silence, before going to class. Harry’s new shadow followed him. He was almost getting used to it already.


	5. Chapter 5

_Beginning of February_

 

Two weeks later, they had a routine. The routine started when Harry left the Gryffindor Tower, always finding Malfoy waiting right outside. Malfoy would then ask Harry how he’d slept, and Harry would ignore him. Harry would continue to ignore Malfoy all through the day, and Malfoy would continue to hold open doors, hold out chairs, try to get to carry any books or other things Harry might be carrying, ask how he was doing and bring Harry what he thought Harry needed.

 

Harry was torn between feeling like a jerk and wanting to rage and protest even more.

 

He knew he was acting like a stubborn child. He knew he should try to make the best out of the situation. The problem was, he also knew that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. So okay, he might have fainted once - well, four times - but that was beside the point. He was still a grown man, an adult even, and he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He didn’t need a bloody entourage of Slytherins to follow him around.

 

Since he had fainted, Malfoy had decided he couldn’t be left alone. Ever. If he wasn’t able to be there himself, one of his cohorts would be. Usually Parkinson, sometimes Zabini. Once, he’d even sent Nott! That had been… Unsettling. Harry felt unsure of the quiet Slytherin. His father had been a Death Eater, but Harry didn’t know about Nott himself. As a matter of fact, he didn’t know much about Nott, period. The boy seemed to always be in the background, quietly observing. Something about him told Harry that it would be the hight of stupidity to forget oneself around Nott though. The few times he had spoken up in class, he had revealed an intelligence that might even rival Hermione’s.

 

Today though, Harry wished Malfoy would have sent Nott. He was at the moment standing face to face with one unmovable, excessively stubborn Millicent Bulstrode. She seemed to be as quiet as Nott, but in contrast to him, she wouldn’t stay in the background. When Harry had stepped out of the portrait hole that morning, she had been standing there. She had muttered something about Malfoy being away for the day, and then demanded Harry hand her his bag with books and quills.

 

As usual, Harry had denied to do so, leading to the standstill that they currently were in. Malfoy, and the others he had previously sent, had all grumbled, but then let Harry have it his way. Bulstrode didn’t utter a word, she just stood there, her hand out waiting for his bag. Harry had tried to move around her, only to find her moving with him - not letting him get around her or by her. He had tried glaring at her, but as all the other Slytherins, she seemed to be utterly unimpressed. Then he had growled, argued, threatened - all to no avail. Bulstrode continued to simply standing there, quietly waiting for him to hand over his books.

 

“Harry?” Hermione and Ron were coming out from the Gryffindor Tower. “Weren’t you supposed to go ahead and wait for us in the Great Hall?”

 

“I’m trying to, but she won’t move!” Harry glared at Bulstrode again, with as little effect as before.

 

“Mate, let her carry your things. I’d be more than happy having someone offer to drag this around” Ron gestured to the bag he himself was carrying around. Harry glared at his friend as well. These days, glaring seemed to be all he did. That was when he wasn’t busy shouting or sulking.

 

“Stop being a child, Harry!” Hermione frowned at him disapprovingly, before tugging at Ron’s sleeve to drag him around Bulstrode as they went down to the Great Hall. Traitors!

 

Harry tried again to get around Bulstrode. In his head he went through all of the minor hexes he knew, wondering if it would be that bad to hex her, just a little bit? Just so that he’d get away. The Gryffindor in him told him a firm no to that though. He was starting to feel ridiculous. Almost throwing his bag at the woman, he growled as she finally let him pass. He stomped down the stairs, Bulstrode only a couple of paces behind.

 

 

***

 

 

Five days later, it was Parkinson’s turn to fill in for Malfoy. Gnashing his teeth together, Harry couldn’t help but feel that it was a little bit morbid that the girl who’d wanted to turn him over to Voldemort less than a year ago was now walking beside him chit-chatting away as if they were the best of friends. And as if he really cared whether or not the the color-scheme of the decorations during the ceremony would be in Slytherin or Gryffindor colors.

 

As she was the one who most often came instead of Malfoy - and at times accompanying Malfoy - he should be used to this by now though. Still, when she suddenly knelt before him and promptly put her ear against his stomach in an attempt to check if she could “hear the baby move”, he was almost sure he had somehow traveled to an alternate reality.

 

In contrast, he found himself almost - but not really - liking Zabini’s company. The sarcastic Slytherin had a sense of humor Harry could relate to - if he let himself. For the moment, he wasn’t willing to be accepting toward anyone. Even Ron and Hermione had started to keep a low profile around him - they wouldn’t leave him alone, of course not, but they always seemed to be as agreeable as they could manage when they spoke to him.

 

He managed to catch a discussion between ‘Mione and Ron that had something to do with the potion apparently increasing his levels of estrogen, and as his body wasn’t used to it, he was apparently now considered to be “about ten times as volatile as your average pregnant female.” Some friends he had! As if he didn’t have every right in the world to be feeling a little off right now. He made sure to put a little bit of an effort into being extra grumpy toward them for a while after that. Just so that they would get a feel of exactly how “volatile” he could be!

 

* * *

 

 

_Beginning of March_

 

It was an unusual warm morning and the bonding ceremony was to be held the next week’s Saturday, but right now this day Harry gave his best effort to forget all about what the future would bring and focus only on enjoying himself. Taking his broom with him, he headed out to have a bit of fresh air. Malfoy’s eyes narrowed and he frowned as he met Harry outside the Gryffindor Tower.

 

“You better not be planning to use that for flying.”

 

“I sure am,” Harry was determined not to let Malfoy ruin this day. He couldn’t remember when he had last time woken up feeling this good.

 

“May I remind you of the fact that you are pregnant?” Malfoy’s voice had gone ice cold.

 

“What? The strange cravings, my aching back and the sudden spells of nausea and dizziness - that’s all because I’m pregnant? Gee, thanks Malfoy, how could I have forgotten?” Harry responded with what he hoped sounded like biting sarcasm. Malfoy did not look impressed.

 

“Exactly. ‘Sudden spells of nausea and dizziness.’ And you plan on getting up in the air anyway? Have you no regard for the safety of our child?”

 

Harry blanched and felt the color drain from his face. He actually hadn’t thought about that. He had just looked out at the lovely day and felt better than he had in ages and thought it’d be a perfect day for some casual flying. Malfoy was right though, and that made the disappointment even harder to handle.

 

“Fine.” He growled and thrust the broom at Malfoy. He always wanted to carry everything for Harry, might as well for once be useful then. Harry stalked down the corridor to head out for a safe, slow walk instead.

 

 

***

 

 

It didn’t take long though, before the warm spring sun soothed Harry’s nerves and some of his good mood from earlier returned. It was quite early yet, so he was almost alone - only Malfoy trailing along some distance behind him. Harry walked toward the lake, thinking about the last couple of months.

 

It had almost been two months now, since he had found out he was pregnant. He had finally given in and officially told Ron and Hermione that they would be his “best man” and “maid of honor”. After that, they had apparently been working closely with Zabini and Parkinson on their parts in the ritual. Funny thing that - Gryffindors and Slytherins working close together. Apparently they did have their arguments, and sometimes the planning would get quite “eventful” as Hermione had put it, but still. They were working together instead of killing each other. That was progress.

 

He was down by the lake now. Finding a place in the shade, he sat down for a moment. He wasn’t exactly out of breath as the walk had been a quiet one, but lately he had found that he got dizzy even from slight movements. He guessed it really was a good thing Malfoy had pointed that out before he had gone flying, even though he felt no desire to admit it to anyone.

 

As he sat there, back against a tree, he suddenly froze - not that he had been moving, but now he hardly dared to breathe.

 

“What’s wrong?” Malfoy sounded concerned and ready to attack. Harry absentmindedly reflected over how strange that was, as he had thought Malfoy would always choose to run and hide if there was even a remote chance of something dangerous happening. That thought was soon gone though and he just wordlessly motioned for Malfoy to come closer.

 

As the blond crouched down besides Harry, he grabbed the other man’s hand and without ceremony put it under his robes, onto his lower abdomen. Malfoy stilled immediately, first from confusion and then clearly understanding what had happened.

 

“Do you feel it?” Harry asked with barely contained wonder in his voice.

 

“No,” Malfoy sounded disappointed. “You did though? You felt a movement?”

 

“Yeah. It was like… like I’d swallowed a goldfish and it was swimming around in my guts,” Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Shit, it was the most freakishly wonderful feeling I’ve ever had.”

 

“I wish I could feel it,” Malfoy’s voice was uncharacteristically soft.

 

“You probably will. When the baby grows. I guess now it’s too small so that no one but me can feel it. It’ll grow though.” Harry smiled up at Malfoy. Malfoy’s cheeks were lightly tinted with pink and he gave a half-smile in reply. For a moment they just sat there, Harry feeling for more of the tiny movements, Malfoy just crouching beside him, hand still on Harry’s stomach as if hoping for a movement strong enough so that he too would feel it.


	6. Chapter 6

_Mid-March_

 

“Harry! Wake up, mate, we’re going to be late.” Harry tried his best not to wake up. He really preferred to sleep. To sleep and dream that this wasn’t the day he’d go through a stupid bonding ritual and then be stuck with Malfoy for the rest of his life.

 

After the moment they’d shared when Harry had felt the baby move for the first time, things had gone back to what these days counted for normal. Harry knew, deep inside, that he couldn’t possibly go on behaving like a spoiled brat for the rest of their lives, but somehow he just couldn’t help himself at the moment. He was feeling increasingly bloated all the time, his back just wouldn’t stop hurting, everything smelled so much stronger these days - it was as if suddenly Harry had traded his nose with that of a bloodhound! The other day he had walked into the Gryffindor common room and immediately smelled something that had him hugging the toilet for the next fifteen minutes. When he had finally been able to stand again, he had braced himself and returned to the common room. Within a minute he had sniffed out the source to be Lavender - she had just that day decided to try out her new perfume. Finding out that it had made Harry so ill had made the poor girl break out in tears as she run up to her dorm, blushing violently.

 

All in all, wasn’t it quiet understandable, that he was a little bit testy these days? Harry at least thought so. His friends, well, they didn’t seem to agree. Which made Harry in turn feel misunderstood, lonely and abandoned. So he brooded a little more.

 

And now it was here. The Day. After today, he’d be moving to private quarters with Malfoy. His husband. Harry felt like banging his head against a wall in frustration. Sure, they’d “shared a moment” or whatever, but it was still Malfoy. Harry still didn’t want to bond with the git.

 

“Harry!” This time Ron pulled the covers from Harry and poked him hard in the ribs. It was getting increasingly hard to pretend to be asleep. Grouchily he opened his eyes to glare at Ron, who just grinned in reply and threw him his robes.

 

“Put these on. We’ll be leaving for the Manor in ten minutes.”

 

“Ten minutes? I’m starving!”

 

“Well, you shouldn’t have pretended to be asleep for so long then,” Ron grinned. “Besides, there’ll be plenty to eat at the Manor. Oh, and don’t worry about your dress robes. They’re already there. You’ll have time to shower there as well. Up, up now - ‘Mione’s just about storming in here to shout at you and order us around unless you get a move on.”

 

There was no avoiding it. He knew it, and he had known it for two months now. Still, it sucked. For the umpteenth time, Harry told Ron exactly that, as he grudgingly got up and threw the robes on.

 

 

***

 

 

He was sitting on a sofa with a floral print. The flowers seemed to move and made him dizzy. Otherwise, the sofa was surprisingly comfortable - not that he’d ever admit it. Especially not right now. He was busy sulking. ‘Mione would probably point out that he was behaving like a child. Actually, she had said it two times earlier today already. He didn’t care. He might have to take part in this ceremony, but he was going to show the world he was being forced to do so. He was going to be a part of the Malfoy family? Fine. They’d just have to take him as he is then. He’d be damned if he’d put on any fancy robes like some sort of trophy husband to be shown off to everyone.

 

Harry was still sulking when Malfoy - his husband to be - walked in.

 

“Shouldn’t you be putting on your dress robes? The ceremony will start in an hour.”

 

“Why would I?”

 

“Why would you? Because this is our bonding ceremony. Because there are people out there watching, wanting to celebrate us. Because this ceremony is where our families are formally joined and marks the starting point of the family our child will be born into. There are lots of reasons, pick one. For once in this whole mess, can you just get over yourself and put on your dress robes?”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No. I might be forced into bonding with you, I am not going to get forced into wearing dress robes.”

 

For the first time since they found out about the pregnancy, Malfoy seemed to be struggling with controlling his emotions. He flushed in anger, but Harry didn’t care. He could take those stupid dress robes and go bond with them, if that’s what he wanted. “You want to get bonded to me, fine. You take me as I am.” He added just as Malfoy was about to speak. Malfoy shut his mouth at that, and for a moment he just stared at Harry, and it was clear that he was struggling to hold his words back. It looked to be a struggle Malfoy would loose, but Harry didn’t care. There was nothing that git could say to make him change his mind. When he finally did speak, his voice was level, but ice-cold and piercing.

 

“Want to get bonded to you? Want to? Did you miss the ‘it is _a law_ ’-part? Do you actually think I want this? That’s really what you think? That if I had my way, this is what I would choose? To have a child with you? To spend the rest of my life with the pompous, self-absorbed, holier-than-thou Savior? Two months ago, I was happy in the knowledge that when I got out of Hogwarts with my NEWTs, I would never have to share space with you again. I knew my parents would pick someone for me to bond with, to have an heir with, but it would have been someone who knew at least the simplest of good manners and civilized behavior. Not a child that thinks the whole world revolves around him. Get over yourself, Harry! I am doing the best I can of the shittiest situation I’ve been in - and believe me, I have been through some shitty stuff, as you should remember - but do not for a moment delude yourself into believing that this is what I want. I would never have chosen this. But for the sake of our child, I am doing my best, but I’m telling you, pregnancy hormones or not, there are limits to how much I can take.”

 

When he finished his tirade, Malfoy gave Harry a last, dark glare before turning on his heel and strode out, leaving a stunned Harry gaping behind him.

 

After he had found out that he was pregnant, no one had spoken to him like that. Hermione had sighed and pointed out his bad behavior, but mostly people had just laughed it off as signs of hormones. It had grated his nerves to no end at times, and he had found himself wishing that someone would treat him like a normal person at least once, and speak their mind. He guess he’d gotten that wish now.

 

He felt stupid for not thinking about it all from Malfoy’s perspective before. He knew he had been self-absorbed lately, but somehow he hadn’t realized how much. Malfoy had seemed so comfortable, natural with the whole situation. He really hadn’t thought about this being hard for him as well. He had just thought… He didn’t actually know what he had thought. A voice inside him told him that he had avoided thinking about Malfoy’s point of view altogether, but he didn’t want to listen to it. He had wanted to feel like he could just blame Malfoy for it all, like the git had planned it.

 

The git was right though, although Harry was reluctant to admit it. Malfoy had been doing his best to get along with Harry, while Harry couldn’t even bring himself to call Malfoy by his first name. What was he going to do? Call his husband by his surname for the rest of their lives? He sighed. He was angry that he was forced into this, and he wanted to blame Malfoy for it, but it wasn’t like it was the git that had written the law in the first place. He might agree with the law though, but he hadn’t planned for this situation. As he had said, he had expected to get bonded to someone who knew all those things that the Dursley’s sure hadn’t taught Harry. The correct way to do things, dress and so on - all that stuff that made Harry yawn from boredom. The point remained though, that Malfoy hadn’t planned for them to bond, anymore than Harry had. Harry might want to blame Malfoy for it all, but that wouldn’t be right.

 

He was feeling miserable, but who was he helping by making Malfoy feel as bad as possible as well?

 

Slowly, he got up. If he hurried, he had just the time to shower and put on those bloody irritating dress robes and pretend that he was at least almost able to behave himself.

 

 

***

 

 

When he entered the ceremony hall, Malfoy hardly spared a glance more than he had to for him. Harry would have guessed the ceremony was beautiful, if you liked that sort of thing. Harry didn’t, but he tried to smile anyway. It felt unfamiliar, he had had his face in a frown or a glare for so long now.

 

As he joined hands with Malfoy for the bonding, he marveled at how dry and cool the other boy’s hand was. His own felt clammy and sweaty. He managed to say the words without stumbling too much though, and tried not to flinch when the magic that bound him to Malfoy went through him. He knew it would, even though he hadn’t paid that much attention to Hermione when she had explained to him what it meant. It had something to do with helping them to remain faithful to each other, but it wouldn’t change him or his feelings in any way. He’d thought of it like some sort of magical cock-block, nothing else.

 

Not that he’d been that active in that department, but now he guessed he’d never be. He tried not to think about that too much though. Not now. Now he tried to concentrate on keeping a smile on his face.

 

 

***

 

 

Somehow, he survived first the ceremony and then the mingling afterward. Returning to Hogwarts, he was exhausted. He felt like sleeping for days. When he started to walk up toward the Gryffindor Tower, he was soon stopped though as his friends - and Malfoy and his friends - looked at him pointedly. For a moment he just couldn’t figure out why, until he realized he wasn’t living with the other Gryffindors anymore. From now on, he was living with Malfoy.

 

He tried his best not to glare at them all, reminding himself that this wasn’t their fault. He still felt like he had a lead weight in his stomach though, as he left his friends behind and followed Malfoy to their private dorm.


	7. Chapter 7

An awkward silence filled the room when the door closed behind them. After Malfoy had given Harry a piece of his mind earlier, they hadn’t talked other than the words necessary for the ceremony. Busying himself, Harry had a look around the room they had just entered. It looked like a common room in miniature, with a two-person sofa and a couple of comfy-looking chairs in front of a small fireplace. The colors seemed to be in calm and soft earth-tones, avoiding any green though. No Gryffindor or Slytherin colors then, this would be neutral ground.

 

There were two more doors in the room that for the moment were closed, but Harry guessed they would lead to the bathroom and to the bedroom. A part of Harry wanted to go have a look, but mostly he wanted to avoid it. The shared common room was one thing, it felt mostly neutral, but the rest… Harry just wasn’t ready. Malfoy didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to look at the other rooms either, as he chose to sit down in one of the chairs. Harry sat down in the other, and for a while they just sat there in the quiet. They should probably go to sleep soon, as it was already late. They were freed from classes the next day - to give them a moment to get used to the change (as if one day would be enough for that; a lifetime won’t be enough, Harry thought), but it still wouldn’t do staying up all night. For a moment longer, Harry wants to avoid going to sleep in the same room as Malfoy though.

 

“Do you need anything?” Malfoy’s question broke the silence. Harry looked up. He felt he should apologize for his behavior the last two months, but he just can’t bring himself to it. He can’t bring himself to say anything at all. Instead he shook his head - although he is craving for some chocolate, but he doesn’t feel like he deserves any.

 

“Are you sure?” Malfoy looks at him, not a flicker of emotion on his face. The anger from earlier is gone, but now Harry knows that it is there, only hidden. It makes him feel insecure. He shouldn’t care, he thinks, how Malfoy feels. Actually, he should be happy - at least they are on the same page. He can’t help the feeling of anxiety that thought brings him though. Somehow, deluding himself into believing that this was something Malfoy actually wanted, had been easier. Now, he just couldn’t say what he was feeling beyond the anxiety that he couldn’t even start to explain the reason of.

 

Realizing Malfoy is still waiting for an answer, he nods his head. He is sure. At least, he is sure that he doesn’t want to ask Malfoy for anything. He just want to curl up and cry.

 

“Okay. I’m going to wash up and go to sleep then.” Harry nods in acknowledgment as Malfoy get up and leave. A short while later, he hears him leave the bathroom and go to the bedroom. Harry still sits in front of the fire - he just can’t get himself to move.

 

 

***

 

 

“Harry? You still up?” Malfoy’s sleep-heavy voice sounds from the direction of their bedroom. Harry slowly lifts his head and looks up at him; he’s standing in the doorway with his brow furrowed. Harry hadn’t realized that it had gotten so late - Malfoy had probably been sleeping for a couple of hours already. Still, Harry just couldn’t make himself speak. Or move.

 

“Are you okay?” Malfoy comes closer, a worried look on his face. Harry looks away. The need to apologize grows stronger, but still he just can’t do it. So he remains quiet while the anxiety grows within him and as Malfoy comes closer to gracefully kneel down beside Harry’s chair.

 

“Hey,” he says, carefully putting a hand on Harry’s knee. Harry freezes at the touch, but doesn’t move. Neither does he respond. “You’re making me worried. Should I get Madam Pomfrey?” Harry shakes his head, he’s fine. Really. If he just could get rid of this crippling anxiety that seem to have hit him from nowhere. Malfoy looks at him, clearly struggling to make up his mind. “What can I do then? You need to sleep, you know.” He manages to look worried and exasperated at the same time.

 

Harry tries to move, to say something, but to his horror and humiliation, the only thing that happens is that he feels tears starting to rise in his eyes. Now this is just what he needed! No matter how he tries, he can’t stop them though. Malfoy looks stricken for a moment, clearly not knowing what to do with his new, now crying, pregnant husband that he was forced to bond with. Just as Harry was forced to. Harry can’t believe he’s been this selfish! He feels absolutely miserable, and now that he’s started crying, he just can’t stop. He buries his face in his hands.

 

A moment later, he feels the hand on his knee move to stroke his back instead, with calm and steady movements. Malfoy has risen up from his kneeling position, and is now sitting on the armrest. Not having any energy left to care about the humiliation, Harry suddenly turns to throw his arms around Malfoy’s waist and almost draws him down in his lap as he buries his face against him. Harry feels Draco tense up for a short moment, before he continues to stroke Harry’s back as he cries.

 

 

***

 

 

Something strikes Harry as odd, when he wakes up. He seem to be hugging a pair of pajama-clad legs. He can feel firm muscles beneath the fabric. Gulping quietly to himself, he tries to stay still and not give away that he has woken up. Focusing on clearing his head from sleep, he remembers last night.

 

He remembers crying against Malfoy. Draco. He figures he should probably call Malfoy Draco now - not only are they bonded, but apparently he just woke up clutching the guy’s legs tightly. Dimly he remembers how Draco tried to get him to bed after he had calmed down. First, he had tried to get Harry to speak, of course, but that had been of no use. Harry feels himself blushing when he remembers that neither had it been of any use to try to get him to let go of Draco and sleep in his own bed. He had held on to the other boy like he had been his only lifeline, and finally Draco had given up and just tucked Harry in bed next to himself instead.

 

Remembering, Harry never wants to get up and face Draco again. What came over him last night? Sure, he had felt shitty for realizing he’d behaved like a self-centered brat for two months, but braking down like that? Clinging to Draco and crying? In particular after Draco had yelled at him and told him in no uncertain terms that he really didn’t want this. That he’d prefer to never see Harry again after leaving Hogwarts. Draco was as much forced into this as Harry, and Harry knew very well that Draco had hated him for over seven years. He had just been better at hiding it now, trying to do the best of the situation.

 

Harry can’t help a small cringe. He’s clinging to someone who’d probably rather be anywhere but here. Who’s instincts are probably to laugh at Harry and push him away, but who apparently isn’t doing that for some reason. “Bloody pure-blood traditions!” Harry can’t help thinking. Draco’s been taught from birth to accept having to care for whoever he ends up bonded to. For some reason, knowing that he does this only because of that; because he sees it as an obligation, feels like a knife twisting in Harry’s stomach.

 

As he lies there, pretending to be asleep, he listens to Draco turn the pages in some book he is reading. How long have they been like this, Harry wonders? Why didn’t Draco force him to let go so that he could get all the way up from bed? Was Harry really holding on that hard? Or is it only because Draco is being… nice? Being nice to Harry, because he has to be, not because he wants to, Harry thinks darkly.

 

Suddenly he realizes that he probably should let go of Draco’s legs before he realizes Harry is awake. If he does and Harry is still holding on, that’d be even more embarrassing. Not that a little more embarrassment would do much of a difference. So Harry holds on, trying to think of what to do; of what to say as an explanation. How can he even hope to explain something that he doesn’t know the reason of himself though?

 

Why does it hurt him so much, that Draco is hating this whole mess just as he is? Why does it hurt him that Draco feels forced to this too; that he hates it and is behaving all nice and caring just because of tradition?

 

“Are you up for some breakfast?” suddenly Draco’s voice interrupts Harry’s thoughts. Apparently he has noticed Harry being awake, and still lying there anyway, clutching Draco’s legs. This is just spectacular. He figures he’s probably never going to stop blushing after this. He mumbles something in response, as he quickly sits up to turn his back at Draco, not daring to face him yet.

 

“Those pregnancy hormones put you through some strange rides, huh?” Harry stills at Draco’s words, realizing he’s being given a way out. A way to explain the whole spectacle he made of himself. Gratefully, he nods.

 

“Well, lets see it this way - at least we got to spend our wedding night in the same bed, as tradition prefers.” Draco’s says it with a small chuckle, and Harry finally dares to turn around and face him. Draco is looking at him with a small smirk, but it’s a kind smirk. Harry lets out a short laugh himself.

 

“Yeah, I guess I’m sort of a mess,” he confesses ruefully. Draco smiles at this, but Harry can’t help but cringe at the thought that he can’t be sure that it is a real smile. It probably isn’t. How could it be?

 

“Fancy anything special for breakfast then?” Draco asks as he gets up.

 

“Nah, just the usual. I’ll go wash up before we eat though.”

 

 

***

 

 

Alone in the bathroom, the thoughts attack him again, as does those feelings he cannot explain. Draco giving him a way out by mentioning the hormones, and being all nice and smiling. The memory of holding his legs - when he closes his eyes, he can still feel how muscular those legs had been under the pajamas. He bet Draco wouldn’t have much body hair. He’d probably be all silky smooth to the touch… Hey, wait! Where did those thoughts come from? Harry straightens himself, heart suddenly pounding in almost-panic.

 

He hates Draco. Malfoy! He hates Malfoy. They have hated each other since they were eleven! Malfoy hates him. This, their bonding, is the last thing Draco wants, Harry knows that now. Malfoy, he has to go back to calling him Malfoy. Apparently calling him Draco puts all kinds of strange thoughts in Harry’s mind. And he hates that. He hates Draco. Malfoy. He hates this all, he hates being bonded to Draco, being forced to be a family with Draco. Malfoy, gotta remember to call him Malfoy again!

 

He has always hated Draco (Malfoy, call him Malfoy! - Too late, he’s Draco now.). How could he do anything else. Draco is a Death Eater. His whole family are Death Eaters. They supported the Dark Lord. Not to mention all that other stuff through the years - calling Hermione a mudblood, all those times picking on Ron because his family is poor… Making fun of Harry for his glasses, and because he has no parents. And then the big stuff, like trying to kill Dumbledore and letting the Death Eaters in to Hogwarts. All that. How could Harry do anything but hate him?

 

He has to hate Draco. He’s the bloody Savior, for Merlin’s sake! He killed the Dark Lord. He can’t do anything else than hate Death Eaters. All Death Eaters.

 

Can he?

 

…

 

…

 

For a moment, he just stands there, letting the question float around in his mind.

 

He doesn’t hate Draco. The realization is suddenly there, crystal clear and without any doubt.

 

The thing is, Draco made it perfectly clear that he is only being nice to Harry, doing all this, because of the law. Because of those bloody Pure-blood traditions.

 

With a sudden realization, it is clear to Harry. These two months, telling himself that Draco wanted this and he was the wronged party, the one who was forced, it had been a defense. Before this, he had been avoiding Draco as much as possible, but why? Because he felt he had to hate Death Eaters. He had to hate Draco.

 

He was now having epiphany after epiphany, it seemed. Had he ever hated Draco? All those years, almost going out of his way to get a rise out of the other boy. And then sixth year, when he’d spent most of his time either stalking Draco or with his eyes glued to his dot on the Marauder’s Map. Not to mention how he still sometimes dreamed about what had happened in the Room of Requirement - he had been telling himself he dreamed about the fire, the fear and that it was clearly a nightmare. Now though, he finally admitted to himself that the part that remained clear to him each time he woke up from one of those dreams, was how Draco’s arms had felt around him.

 

He had avoided Draco, because now the war was over. Now was the time for new beginnings. He had clung to his relationship with Ginny, because that had been safe. She would give him a family, he had thought. He could take her out and everyone would think it was okay. There was no twist, there was no danger of disapproval, there was no one that would give it a second thought. She didn’t have the stigma of a Dark Mark on her arm. She was the safe choice. So he had clung to her and stayed away from Draco.

 

Staying away, as he had no reason to stalk the boy anymore. And now, feeling extraordinary open to the truth, realizing that while he had stayed away from Draco, his thoughts hadn’t. He had probably been actively thinking about how he had to stay away from Draco each day for the whole school year. Thinking about how he had to stay away because if he didn’t… If he started to stalk Draco again, hang around him in any way, he had known - subconsciously at least - that his whole world would, once again, be all about Draco. And how long would it have taken then for him to realize that the feelings the blond stirred within him, wasn’t hostile?

 

Being forced to bond with Draco had truly upset him though. He had told himself he hated it and Draco wanted it, because the truth was just too painful. It had been easier than to admit that finally he’d have all the time in the world to be close to the boy that had fascinated him to the extent of obsession since they were eleven years old. A boy who he knew did not share those feelings.

 

Harry groaned. Who knew introspection was this tormenting? Not to mention embarrassing. This time no one else was here to witness his embarrassment, but it still hurt. How had he been so successful at fooling himself? All those times, waking up and thinking about Draco first thing. About avoiding him, but at the same time picture those piercing gray eyes, that lean, firm body that Harry just wanted to see up close. All those times wanking that the mental picture of Ginny had just happened to morph into the picture of a nameless blond that looked strangely familiar… All those glances over to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall…

 

At least now he knew the reason for his anxiety yesterday. Why it had felt like it was swallowing him whole. He was finally coming face to face with the truth.

 

He wanted Draco. He had wanted him for a long time. The problem was that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Draco had made that much clear yesterday.

 

He forced back the tears that was once again about to flood his eyes. It had just been so much easier to live in a lie.


	8. Chapter 8

_Two weeks later - the beginning of April_

 

“Harry? Are you okay?” Draco’s voice is heard through the bathroom door, concern evident. The first two weeks of living together have been an emotional roller-coaster for Harry. After realizing his true feelings for Draco, he was determined to try and be nicer. Draco might not actually be in this relationship by choice, but they are still going to be together. He is evidently trying his best, even though he doesn’t even like Harry. The least Harry can do is make it a little easier to be likable.

 

It hasn’t been easy though. Harry swears to himself, that he will never, ever make fun of anyone that is pregnant. Mood swings due to hormones might sound like something to laugh about, but in reality he has found it to be hell on earth. One minute he is laughing, just to be crying the next. The slightest event can set it off. A couple of days ago in Transfigurations Neville had by accident transfigured his wooden stick into a one-eyed turtle. They had been supposed to transfigure it into a two-seat couch - how Neville possible had gotten it that wrong is a mystery that probably not even Merlin knows the answer to. Anyway, seeing that the turtle had only one eye had put Harry into hysterics in the middle of class. When he had realized he was having a breakdown in front of everyone, he had run out. This in turn had made him nauseous, as all movement faster than a slow walk did these days. Consequently, he had thrown up all over Hermione, whom McGonagall had sent after him. When Madam Pomfrey finally had let him out of the hospital wing, he had made it to his and Draco’s quarters and then sworn not to leave it before the baby was born and he himself back to normal. It had taken all of Draco’s, Hermione’s and Ron’s combined skills of persuasion to get him to agree to attend classes the next day.

 

His newly acknowledged feelings for Draco behaved no differently. He had figured he’d just bury them like he used to do with awkward feelings. There was nothing he could do about them anyway. When he was in a good mood, he’d be full of confidence that one day, if he made an effort, Draco might at least develop some sort of friendly feelings for Harry. On good moments, he figured that when the baby came into the world, they would at least have something to bond over. Someone they’d both love and cherish. Maybe, just maybe, Draco might learn to like Harry and not be bitter that they’d been forced to bond. Maybe one day, Draco would be nice to Harry because he liked Harry, and not because he felt he had to.

 

Then there was the moments when despair filled him. In these moments he would see years shared with a person who resented him. In his mind he’d see scenarios of days filled with insults and sarcasm. Not only would he suffer, but their child would constantly be caught in the crossfire between the two spouses, as an innocent victim. From that thought everything usually went downhill when he started to obsess not only over having to live the rest of his life despised by his husband but also about screwing up their child, this little life yet to be born who’d be torn and troubled by their parent’s unhappiness. When these thoughts attacked, he usually had to cast a _silencio_ around himself, as not to wake Draco. He didn’t want to be a bother to his husband, and was pretty sure that if Draco were to confront him during these low moments, he’d break down and confess everything. Draco had enough to do as it was. So, through ups and downs, Harry did his best to hide it all.

 

Now, he was sitting on the bathroom floor, hugging himself with tears flowing down his face. Classes were starting in ten minutes and Draco was getting more and more worried as Harry just couldn’t bring himself to answer. He tried, he really did, but opening his mouth to speak only got him hiccuping and losing even more control of his breathing. He hugged himself harder instead. He felt that if he were to let go, he’d smash something. Hard.

 

Draco was knocking impatiently on the door now, increased worry in his voice as he called for Harry to answer. Dimly, Harry registered swearing as well, and then there was a short flash as the bathroom door vanished. Soon thereafter, Draco was crouched down next to Harry, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Harry, what’s wrong? Is it the baby? Did something happen? Don’t worry, I sent a house-elf for Madam Pomfrey. You’ll both be all right again, just hang on a little while longer.” At his words, Harry felt his eyes widen in horror and he looked up at his husband. “Pomfrey is coming here?” he managed to ask in a shaky voice.

 

“Yes, so no worries,” Draco seemed to make an effort to smile encouraging. Harry groaned and buried his face in his arms again.

 

“Harry?”

 

Harry wants to answer, but the only sound he is able to produce comes out as a indistinctive mumble, and then Madam Pomfrey is there, followed by McGonagall, who explains something about running into Pomfrey when she was headed here and thus decided to come along. He feels the tingling as the school nurse casts a spell, the one he has by now learned tells her the general health of both him and the baby.

 

“Mr. Potter,” she has taken Draco’s place beside him and her no nonsense tone is impossible to ignore. He looks up. “You are both fine, Mr. Potter. The baby is as healthy as can be, and you are faring just as it is expected of a pregnant person. Can you tell me what it was that happened that made you worry?” Harry groans again in response, not wanting to answer.

 

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall’s voice is coming from where she stands behind Pomfrey, next to a worried looking Draco. “Just tell us what is wrong. I am sure there is something to be done, but we need to know what happened to know how exactly to help you.” Harry blushes. McGonagall then turns to Draco instead, an inquiring look on her face.

 

“He went in to dress for the day. After a while I got worried. I tried to get him to answer me or to open the door, but when there was no response I sent a house-elf for Madam Pomfrey and vanished the door. I found him here, huddled against the wall, hugging himself.”

 

Harry groans again, wanting to disappear. Burrowing down his face in his arm again, he tells them what happened. With his arms covering his mouth, they can’t make out his words though. Summoning the scattered remains of his Gryffindor bravery, he looks up to face the humiliation of admitting to this new turn of events this pregnancy has brought to him. He can’t look anyone of them in the eyes though, so instead he stares straight ahead at the opposite wall, as he speaks.

 

“My pants don’t fit,” he says with what he hopes is a level voice. For a moment, everyone is quiet.

 

“Your pants don’t fit,” Madam Pomfrey finally repeats. Harry feels the blush on his cheeks burn, and doesn’t answer. Madam Pomfrey sighs. Draco and McGonagall are quiet. “Well,” the nurse soon continues, “I’m sure they can be modified to fit you. I, however, is not the right person to do that.” Harry doesn’t meet her eyes and only shrugs in response. Soon after, Pomfrey and McGonagall leaves, leaving Harry alone with Draco. Before she leaves, McGonagall gives them permission to skip the first class, but in an uncompromising voice tells them to have this all sorted out before the second class starts.

 

When they are alone, Draco comes and sits down next to Harry.

 

“Your pants don’t fit?” he too now repeats, the real question behind his words evident in his voice. Harry pretends he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t want to explain. Instead he shrugs once more. Leaning back against the wall, closing his eyes, Draco is evidently trying to make sense of what happened.

 

“Why didn’t you answer me when I knocked on the door?” he finally asks. “If you can’t transfigure your pants to fit yourself, I can do it. Why couldn’t you just answer the door?” the irritation is clear in his voice. He is trying to control it, but it is clear to Harry that Draco really just want to snap at him and call him stupid for making all this fuzz for something he sees as insignificant. The desire to throw things and smash stuff suddenly returns. To tired to control himself any longer, he accios a bottle of shampoo from the shelf nearby. When it is in his hand, he proceeds to throw it with full force at the mirror. Before Draco can react, he accios the soap, hair gel and detergent and they too are thrown at the offending object. The bottle of shampoo caused cracks, when the detergent hits there are only a couple pieces left hanging in the frame.

 

Draco finally snaps out of the shock as Harry accios his hairbrush and prepares to throw it. Catching Harry’s wrist in a firm grip, Draco takes the brush from his grip.

 

“Give it back!” Harry growls angrily.

 

“Calm down!”

 

“You don’t get to tell me to calm down. Accio!” Harry accios a random bottle from the shelf. Draco catches it as it gets there though.

 

“Harry!”

 

“Accio!” A jar this time. Draco catches it as well, putting it down on the floor next to the brush and the bottle. Before Harry can accio a new item, Draco throws his arms around Harry, holding him close, keeping Harry’s arms locked firmly against his body. Harry tries to struggle, but the fight runs out of him and soon he sobs instead. Draco holds him tightly, rocking them both slightly.

 

“What’s this really about?” he asks when Harry has calmed down somewhat. Harry’s voice is once again a mumble, and he has to clear his throat to get the words out. Draco waits patiently, softly stroking his hair.

 

“I’m fat,” Harry finally says. Draco stills, but doesn’t respond. “I’m fat and I’m ugly and I’m going to get huge and I’ve already modified my pants twice and Merlin knows how many times more I’ll have to do it and I can’t stand to look at myself I’m all bloated and I look like a balloon and…” here Draco interrupts him by putting a finger under his chin and lifting it up, forcing Harry to quiet and meet Draco’s eyes.

 

“You’re neither ugly, nor fat. Your increasingly rounding belly is absolutely adorable, and inside is a sweet, lovely little baby growing.”

 

“My joints are swollen. I can hardly move without throwing up. I’ll be wobbling around the castle at the end of the pregnancy like an oversized hippo!”

 

“Then I must say you’re the most beautiful, endearing and handsome hippo I’ve ever seen,” Draco looks absolutely serious as he says it, not letting his gaze waver. Having him say those words and knowing he is there, being all nice and comforting just because of tradition, because he has to be there, has Harry crumpling up and breaking down in tears all over again.

 

“Hey,” Draco sounds confused again. “You really are beautiful. And no matter how big you’ll get, nothing will change that.” Harry’s sobbing only increases by his words. “Please, Harry. What can I do?” He sounds almost desperate. Harry hiccups miserably.

 

“You could stop hating me,” he finds himself mumbling, terrified by the admittance but too emotionally wrought out to stop himself.

 

“Hate you? I don’t hate you.”

 

“You have to say that. You don’t really mean it.”

 

“What? Harry, what are you on about?”

 

“You’re only being nice to me because you have to. You don’t mean any of it.” Harry is sure he sounds like a petulant child, and probably looks like one too. He just can’t bring himself to care about it right now though.

 

“Harry…”

 

“It’s true, you said so yourself.”

 

“What? When?”

 

“Before our bonding. You said you hated getting bonded to me. That this is the last thing you would ever have wanted.” Harry feels tears on his face again, running quietly this time, without sobbing. Draco stays quiet. He is now sitting beside Harry, but still holding him. He is still stroking Harry’s hair. Wanting to lean in, Harry instead tears himself away. Draco startles at the movement. He reaches out his hand to take a hold of Harry’s arm, to hold him from running out. Harry stays, but makes sure that there is space between them .

 

“I didn’t say I hated you. I haven’t hated you for years now, I think. I’m not exactly sure I ever did. Back at the bonding, I was stressed and angry. I… I meant what I said, but probably not in the way you think I meant it.” Harry is looking at Draco now, confused. “I would never have chosen this, that is correct. This is the shittiest situation I’ve been it, but do you know why?”

 

“Because you have to spend the rest of your life with _me_ ,” Harry hates the bitterness in his voice as he replies.

 

“Because you had made it perfectly clear that _you_ hated the thought to spend your life with _me_. Do you have any idea how that feels? The prospect of having to spend your life with someone that loathes you? That no matter what you do, nothing is good enough?” sadness is evident in Draco’s calm voice. Harry is quiet, trying to think about what to say. He dare not look at his husband.

 

“What if…” he finally says, but his voice cracks and he has to start anew. “What if I don’t loath you? What if I don’t hate _this_?” At the last word, he gestures vaguely between them.

 

“Then… Then this wouldn’t be the shittiest situation I’ve been in.”

 

“It wouldn’t be?”

 

“No,” Draco smiles carefully, looking at Harry. Meeting his eyes, Harry smiles back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments and kudos ^_^

It was the next day, that it happened. Harry had been on his feet more than usually. When evening came and he and Draco returned to their rooms, he felt beyond exhausted. He wanted to lay down on the sofa, but lately, laying down wasn’t as easy as it had used to be. At nights he had to sleep on the side if he hoped to have any sleep at all. Sitting down was as good as it got these days.

 

Thus, he threw himself down in one of the comfy chairs, proclaiming he was never going to get up again. Draco - wisely enough - didn’t comment on that, but brought a chair for Harry to put his feet up on. Harry hadn’t been relaxing for long though, before _someone_ apparently decided it was time to dance a samba in his belly.

 

The baby was increasingly mobile, but this far they had been kicking Harry’s intestines, to Draco’s big dismay. Now though, they was kicking everywhere, going around like a whirlwind, it felt like to Harry.

 

“Draco!”

 

“What’s wrong?” Draco immediately sounded worried and prepared for action. Harry just smiled, before motioning to his husband to come over. As he wordlessly took Draco’s hand and put it on his belly, a smile soon formed on Draco’s face as well.

 

“I can feel them! Oh, I think you have a future seeker in there! What moves!” he laughed in delight, as he kept his hand on Harry’s belly and leaned in closer. “Hey, little one! This is your Father. I’ll buy you the best broom there is, once you’re out of there, okay? I know you can’t fly right away, but soon you’ll be up chasing the snitch - you’ll learn from the best, I promise. Your Daddy ain’t half bad either,” he said the last part with a wink to Harry, who just laughed. If someone had told him a year ago that he’d have Draco Malfoy laughing and talking to his belly, he’d thought them insane. Now, he only wished he could’ve reached out and stroked Draco’s hair, maybe take his free hand in his, as he sat there beside him. The blond was now making cooing noises and babbling randomly as the baby continued their exercises, and Harry was as close to happy he figured he’d ever be.

 

 

***

 

 

“A year ago, I thought that if I somehow survived the war, I would marry Ginny,” the words just fall out of Harry’s mouth, suddenly and without warning. He has been thinking about talking about this with Draco, for a couple of days now, ever since the incident in the bathroom. He hasn’t found the right words though. Apparently struggling to finish his Potions-essay made his mouth form words without asking for his permission. As he looks up from the parchment and over to Draco, who is sitting next to him, reading, he cringes. The words might have been true, but seeing Draco’s face now makes him wish he’d thought this through some more. It’s too late now though, and there is no other option than going forward. Hoping his husband won’t kill him before he get to the end.

 

“I mean, the Weasley’s were the first real family I had. And Ginny, well, I do love her, you know. Nothing will change that,” he wince at his own words, this really isn’t how he wanted them to come out. He badgers on though, hoping that he will get it right in the end. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m happy that I didn’t end up marrying her though,” at this Draco quirks an eyebrow in question, a change from his previously dark expression.

 

“When this,” here he gestures at his rounding belly, “happened, and mine and Ginny’s relationship was over and we talked, she said that she had been thinking about ending it anyway. I didn’t see why at first, but I do now. I love her, but there has never been any passion to it. It was a comfortable love, easy and relaxing but without any fire or strong emotions. Well, except her temper, but that had nothing to do with passion and love. I love her, but as a friend. I think…” Harry has to stop and think for a moment. He knows what he wants to ask Draco, but he wants to put the words right. “You know, this arranged marriage you pure-blood’s have?” Draco nods in response. “I’ve been thinking, if you’re just put together with someone, without a choice, and make it work, you might learn to love each other, but can passion be forced? Can that sort of emotion be forced?” He doesn’t really want Draco to answer this though, so he continues without a pause. “I think that with Ginny I would have had a loving marriage, but without passion. We would have been friends, and I think we could have been happy together, but there wouldn’t have been any deep desire between us.” Here he pauses, gathering strength to finally ask the question that has been the goal of his long tirade.

 

“I know you have been taught all your life that arranged marriage is all there will be for you, but what if you did have the option to chose freely. Who would you chose?” He isn’t sure he wants to know whom Draco would have chosen, but something in him needs to know. He keeps telling himself that it doesn’t matter, but not knowing is slowly driving him insane. He wants to know what kind of person Draco would want, if he could chose. In his mind, Harry chuckles darkly to himself, figuring he must be some kind of a masochist, asking this.

 

“I haven’t thought about it, as it would have been pointless,” Draco finally answers, looking expressionlessly at Harry. “I am happy to hear that you won’t be spending the rest of our lives together pining over the Wea… Ginny though.” Harry pretends not to hear Draco’s slip of tongue, as he wants to press the matter instead.

 

“Think about it now. Who would you like to chose?”

 

“There is absolutely no point to this. I won’t be thinking it over. Now, I really have to get back to my studies, as should you.” Draco’s tone has an air of finality to it, but Harry still doesn’t want to give up.

 

“Come on, you must have some idea! Who do you think of when you wank?” If looks would kill, he would drop dead from the stare Draco is giving him.

 

“That doesn’t matter. Now shut it.”

 

“So there is someone you think about? Who?”

 

“Is there a reason you are being this obsessive about this?” Draco can’t keep the irritation out of his voice.

 

“Just getting to know you?” Harry can’t help putting his answer as a question, as he really doesn’t know why he tortures himself like this. Since their conversation a couple of days ago, things have been going good. He still gets distraught at times about how he’d want their relationship to deepen, but knowing that Draco doesn’t absolutely loath being bonded to Harry helps. He knows he should leave it at that, but he can’t. The part of him that loves to torture himself wants to know his “competition”.

 

“We can get to know each other plenty of other ways. Now, study.” With a resoluteness to him, Draco promptly buries himself in his book. Sighing, Harry returns to his essay, promising himself that he won’t give up though. He will find out who Draco would want to be with, if he could chose.

 

 

***

 

 

Over the next few weeks, Harry returns to the topic at every other day, but to no avail. The only thing that happens, is Draco getting more and more irritated. Still, Harry can’t seem to stop himself. He knows he has a tendency to get obsessed, and right now, he seems to be obsessed over what he to himself has come to call “Draco’s secret desire”.

 

When May is drawing to an end and the NEWTs are about to start, Draco still hasn’t answered. It’s a month until the baby’s scheduled arrival and Harry is feeling increasingly bloated, his emotions are all over the place and he doesn’t remember how it feels like when his back doesn’t hurt. Concentrating on his NEWTs is an impossibility, but he tries. He has been given the option to come back for them later, study at home for a year and then come back to take them together with the students that now are sixth years. He is starting to feel he will have no other choice, but he wants to try now anyway. Not getting his NEWTs this year, would delay the start of his Auror-training. He doesn’t expect Draco’s reaction to that argument though, when he mentions it one evening as they are finishing up their studies for the day.

 

“Are you insane? You are not going to be an Auror!” Draco looks aghast at the thought.

 

“What? Why not? And you don’t get to decide that. I’ve wanted to become an Auror for years. What else would I do?” as he speaks, Harry is getting angry. He might be bonded to Draco, he might even love the git, but that doesn’t mean he is going to be bossed around!

 

“You are going to take care of our child, of course.”

 

“Why don’t you do that?”

 

“I’ll be there too. I’ll be running the Manor though, and managing the Malfoy assets. Father does it now, but he is getting old and wants me to take over soon. I will make sure we lack nothing.”

 

“I am not going to be a stay at home-husband!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because… I just am not, okay. I’m not going to sit at home, being ‘provided for’ as some sort of helpless, reliant pet! I’m going to have my own career. I’m going to be an Auror.”

 

“If you absolutely want a career, I’m sure we can work something out. It won’t be as an Auror though.”

 

“You don’t get to decide that.”

 

“I’m your husband.”

 

“That doesn’t mean that you own me.” Harry is almost screaming now, and Draco looks like he is about to loose his temper as well.

 

“I didn’t claim I own you! But as your husband, we should talk about these sort of things and work them out together. I’m not saying you can’t have a career. You don’t need to have one, I can provide for us, but if you want a job, of course you can have one. We’ll work something out, and there will be house elves and governors for the child. Calm down.”

 

“Fine. I can have a job. I’m going to be an Auror.”

 

“Do you realize the death rate of Aurors? Do you have a death wish? Do you want to risk dying and leaving our child with only one parent?”

 

“I’m not going to die! Yeah sure, it’s not the safest of jobs, but it’s important. Aurors are needed. And I want to be one _for_ our child, to make the world a safer place to live and grow up in. It’s not like I plan to take unnecessary risks though. Besides, if I die, you’re free to bond with whoever that secret desire of yours is.” Harry mutters the last part under his breath, not meaning for Draco to hear it, but he does and his face darkens.

 

“My what?”

 

“Whoever it is you won’t tell me about, that you really want to be with,” Harry is pouting now, unable to stop himself though. Draco sighs.

 

“I told you that is of no consequence.”

 

“Then why don’t you tell me who it is?”

 

“Because you’re obsessing. And because it’s irrelevant. Also, you are changing the topic. I don’t want you to be an Auror.”

 

“Well, you can’t always get what you want. I will be one. Feel free to hope for my early demise in the line of duty!” with those words Harry stomps away to the bathroom, slamming the door close behind him. When he emerges a while later, he walks straight for the bedroom without looking at Draco. He listens from under the covers as Draco washes himself and then crawls into his own bed.

 

“Harry? Are you awake?” Draco softly asks a moment later. Harry considers pretending to sleep, but mumbles an affirmative answer instead.

 

“I don’t like it, the thought of you being an Auror. It’s dangerous, and I really don’t want you to die. But I can’t stop you, you know that. I just wish… Could you try to see it from my point of view? Could we talk about it again, after the baby is born? It’s not like you’ll be able to join this fall anyway.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Harry. The baby is to be born in the beginning of July. You’ll probably need more than two months to recuperate from that. Also, I’d like to think that you’d want to spend some time with the baby at first, before starting any job. I at least will do that.”

 

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. I guess you’re right. I do want to be an Auror though. I don’t think I will change my mind about that.” Draco sighs, but he doesn’t argue anymore. After wishing each other a good night, they both go to sleep. At least for an hour, until Harry just has to get up and visit the loo. He does it without waking Draco though, as he does every night. He is hoping for at least a couple hours uninterrupted sleep at some point during the night, but the pressure on his bladder seem to worsen by the day now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Mid-June_

 

Harry was waiting for his transfiguration NEWT test to start, when a twist in his lower abdomen suddenly had him gasping in pain. When he could breathe steadily again, he looked around - no one had noticed. The baby was moving around furiously at the moment, so he wasn’t actually worried - it had probably been a pre-birth cramp. Madam Pomfrey had said they could start weeks before the actual birth. Deciding not to tell anyone, he preceded to start the transfiguration test, as McGonagall just arrived to let them into the classroom where it was to be held.

 

Harry has successfully transformed a brick into a butterfly and back and is now busy writing an essay on the process when there is a new twist, this one even stronger than the previous. He can’t stop a yelp from escaping.

 

“Mr Potter, is everything okay?” McGonagall sounds worried.

 

“I’m finee… Aayhaaagh!” A new twist and now it feels like his inside’s are on fire. He doesn’t even notice when McGonagall orders Hermione to run and get Madam Pomfrey. In a fog of pain, he isn’t aware of Draco arriving shortly before the healer, nor of being carried on a transfigured stretcher to the infirmary. All he knows is that his innards seem to want to turn him inside out and the baby is pressing on, apparently tired of waiting and wanting out now. He screams at times and groans, unaware of everything.

 

Then a cold cloth is put on his forehead, and a hand is firmly gripping his. He holds on to it and it grounds him somewhat, so that he is able to make out the voices surrounding him. Draco, standing beside him, his hand in Harry’s iron grip, is talking non-stop, trying to calm Harry down but clearly on the verge of panic himself. Madam Pomfrey’s voice carries as she is barking orders to someone, Harry doesn’t know who. Then she is there, casting spells. None of them relieves the agony he is in though.

 

“Mr Potter. Harry! Listen to me. You have to listen, Mr. Potter.” Harry registers her words, but it is hard to concentrate on what they mean. He thinks he manages a nod though, to indicate that he is trying.

 

“The baby has managed to get twisted up in the umbilical cord and have trouble breathing. They need to get out, and they need to get out now and the pain you’re feeling is them trying to find the way to a birth canal that you don’t have. Do you remember the procedure I described that we’ll be using? The baby is to be delivered with a modified Apparate-spell, one that Apparates not me, but instead transports your baby out from your womb. Now, this is a very, very delicate procedure, it needs to be done precisely and with care, so that the baby doesn’t go into a state of shock from the sudden environmental change. Nevertheless, as this is an emergency, we need to hasten. I know you are in pain, but I need you to stay still and relax for just a moment. It is important that you relax, or I risk splinching and we do not want that, do we?“

 

Is she insane? No, they don’t want her to splinch the baby, but how on earth is he supposed to relax and keep still? The burn inside is intense and just as he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does. He thinks about Voldemort casting crucio, and it pales in comparison to the pain he is in now. He wants to stay still, he wants to relax but his body just won’t comply as spasm after spasm of pain is surging through him. The baby wants out, the baby is in distress, but as he has no birth canal, the magical womb inside him just contracts to signal that they need to do the spell now, and he knows it, they have been through this at several occasions during his check ups with Madam Pomfrey, but never had he thought it would be this hard to get his body to do his bidding and just relax. The rational part of him knows it’s impossible, but he doesn’t listen to it, instead he feels increasingly convinced that he will be literally teared apart.

 

“Mr. Malfoy!” He hears Madam Pomfrey’s voice, but it is getting harder and harder to understand the meaning of her words. “You need to distract Harry somehow. Get him to think about something else, just for half a minute should be enough, but he needs to get his mind on something else for just that short time so that he’ll stay still and at least relax somewhat.” Harry hears Draco asking something, and receiving a reply, but he has lost the ability to listen now.

 

Then a hand takes a hold of his chin, turning his head to the side a little, and keeping it in place. He looks into the silvery eyes of Draco Malfoy. He is clearly doing his best to stay calm, but Harry can see the anxiety and worry in his eyes. Nevertheless, he is also determined.

 

“Harry, look at me,” he orders. Harry struggles to keep still and to keep his eyes open and locked at Draco. “You know that thing you’ve been asking me for about a month now? Do you really want to know?” What? Now he’s going to tell him? Harry groans, unable to reply with words, but managing a weak nod. Draco flashes him a short smile, before looking Harry squarely in the eyes again, not letting his gaze waver.

 

“Ever since fifth grade, there has only been one person I’ve been thinking about when wanking. If I could have chosen whomever I wanted to bond with, I’d chose them.” He pauses, making sure he has Harry’s attention before continuing. “I’d chose you. If I’d had the choice, the choice would have been you. For me, it’s always been you.”

 

As green eyes are lost in silver, pain momentarily forgotten, a beautiful baby girl draws the air of this world into her lungs for the first time, before giving up a roar in protest and declaration of her arrival.


	10. Chapter 10

“Lily.”

 

“Scorpia.”

 

“Scorpia? You’re out of your mind, Draco! Besides, Lily is the perfect name for her.”

 

“I’m perfectly sane, and I happen to think Scorpia is the perfect name. It’s a strong, individualistic name that follows the Malfoy naming-tradition. Lily, on the other hand, is a weak, commonplace name fit for a flower child. No Malfoy is named after a flower.”

 

“Your mother is.”

 

“My mother wasn’t born a Malfoy, she's a Black by birth. That’s different.”

 

“Our child is a Potter as well. And my mother’s name was Lily, and I decided long ago that if I ever get a child, I’ll name them after my parents - James if it is a boy, Lily if it is a girl.”

 

“That’s an idiotic reason to have when choosing a name for a child. Do you wish them to be copies of your parents perhaps?”

 

“What? No, and it’s a perfectly good reason. I want to name her Lily to honor my mother, not to recreate her. What a stupid notion.”

 

“I agree, choosing Lily as a name is stupid.”

 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

 

Harry glares at Draco, who glares back. They’ve been arguing about the name of their child since said child left with her grandparents for the evening, supposedly giving Harry and Draco some time to rest and just spend time together, the two of them. Since the baby was born a week ago neither of the new parents have had one whole night of sleep and as they have their final NEWTs tomorrow, they need to at least get some rest. With the baby away, that should have been easy, but instead they started arguing over what to name her almost immediately that she left the room, happily cooing in Narcissa’s arms.

 

Harry spares a stray thought to how things might be faring for the four happy grandparents, all spending time together. They had been unable to compromise on who would get to take care of the girl for the first time, so now she is spending her time with all four of them, in one of Hogwart’s guest quarters. Harry can only hope that they’ll be able to overcome their animosities in favor of properly taking care of their grandchild.

 

“Lily suits her perfectly, and you know it - thanks to inheriting the Malfoy colors, she is fair as a lily. It’s meant to be.” Draco glares some more, but doesn’t answer. Harry knows though, that he hasn’t won - not yet anyway. He is determined to talk Draco around though.

 

Letting the subject go for the moment though, they sit down on the sofa. For awhile, they just sit there, the silence and the awkwardness increasing by the minute. Ever since the baby was born, they have been too occupied with taking care of her. Now, there is only the two of them. Now is their chance to talk. So, naturally, they just sit there, quiet.

 

“Did you do it on purpose?” Harry finally breaks the silence.

 

“Do what?”

 

“The potion. Make sure we messed it up?” He hasn’t even finished the question when he realizes his mistake. Draco has jumped up to stand on his feet, face darkening with rage. As usual, when enraged, his voice is almost deathly calm and ice-cold.

 

“How dare you? Do you have any idea how insulting that is? Do you?”

 

“Uhm, I’m sorry, I guess I… No?”

 

Draco just stared at him quietly for a moment, eyes dark.

 

“No, I did **not** purposely mess it up. I would never.”

 

“But…”

 

“No. No ‘but’. If you actually think I would do something like that… I don’t know what to say to that. How low an opinion do you actually have of me?”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that! I don’t have a low opinion of you. I just…”

 

“You could’ve fooled me.”

 

“Draco, I didn’t… I mean, you’re a Slytherin, after all. You manipulate and scheme and plan to get things to go your way. Also, you’re bloody brilliant at potions! How could we screw it up?”

 

“Yes, I’m a Slytherin. That doesn’t mean I’d do anything like this. As far as I knew, you hated my guts. Right now, I’m starting to feel like you probably still do. Why would I scheme to get you pregnant so that I’d have to bond with someone who hates me? No matter my own feelings,” his voice lowers at that last part, and he blushes slightly, clearly regretting what he’d confessed to Harry. “As for the how we might have screwed it up, well, I might have been a little bit distracted. Also, I guess I was impatient, as I really wanted the potion to work.”

 

“What do you mean? Why?”

 

“Well, I’d never mess it up like you suggested, but I actually wanted you to see things from my perspective. I hoped it would make you at least hate me a little bit less,” he sighs and sits back down on the sofa, next to Harry but leaving a good bit of space between them.

 

Suddenly, Harry feel guilty. It’s been a week since Draco’s confession during the birth of their child, and Harry hasn’t even gotten around to tell him that he isn’t the only one who feels that way. They’ve been busy, sure, but he should have at least made some comment. He blushes in shame.

 

“Draco,” he says, softly putting his hand on the other man’s arm. “I’m sorry for asking that. I didn’t think. I just… I don’t know why I even asked, I didn’t actually believe it, I just wanted to be absolutely sure. And it’s not like I’m known for thinking before speaking.” Draco’s mouth twitches, like he wants to smile but is fighting it. Harry smiles as he cautiously lifts his hand to touch Draco’s chin. “I never told you… I should have, but I didn’t dare. What a lousy Gryffindor I am! ‘Mione is always going on about how important it is to talk about your feelings, but I’ve never had much practice. To think that if only I had opened my mouth, a lot of the mess this spring could’ve been avoided.” He is softly stroking Draco’s chin with his thumb as he speaks, marveling about the roughness. There’s no visible stubble, but he can feel it. Draco is looking at him quietly, with a guarded look in his eyes.

 

“I’m not good with words, Draco. The Dursley’s - my Muggle relatives who raised me - wasn’t exactly interested in my emotional wellbeing. Or my physical one for that matter.” At this Draco’s face turn into a questioning frown, but before he can say anything, Harry continues. “I’ll tell you about it some other time, okay? My point right now being that I’m more a man of action, than words.” With that, he promptly drew Draco closer and touched his lips to his.

 

The kiss was soft at first, but soon turned more daring as Draco overcame his initial surprise and started to participate. Initially, Harry was leading, but soon he found Draco taking charge. The tip of Draco’s tongue licked his lower lip teasing him to let Draco enter. Harry wanted to be more active and fight Draco for control, but he felt himself just giving in instead - it just felt so good to let go and let Draco explore his mouth with his tongue. His lips were strong and soft, Harry felt self-conscious about his own dry and chapped lips. Draco didn’t seem to mind though.

 

A firm hand found its way under Harry’s shirt, starting on an exploration of Harry’s body. The skin on Draco’s hands were soft, just as his lips. Absentmindedly Harry thought about that bottle of moisturizing lotion he’d gotten from Ginny last Christmas and that remained unopened to this day. Maybe he should consider trying it at least? As a finger lightly grazed over his left nipple, all thoughts of lotions left though as he sharply drew his breath. Draco chuckled.

 

Pulling apart, Draco pulled Harry’s shirt up and off him, before putting a hand on Harry’s chest and gently pushing him to lay back down on the couch. Straddling him, he started to trace patterns on Harry’s chest with his fingers, as he smiled teasingly.

 

“So, you’re not a talker, you say?” Harry just shook his head in response. “I guess we should work on that then.” The smile on Draco’s face had almost a predatory glint to it now. With his right index finger he lazily traced a figure eight around both his nipples, getting close to them but not touching. “So, what might it have been you should have told me? Spell it out Harry.”

 

“I… just… Ohh…” Harry arches into the touch as Draco lightly let his fingers caress the side of Harry’s neck. When he stops speaking, Draco stops moving his fingers though. Harry reaches out to touch Draco, but with a smile he stops him. Harry could fight him, but instead he lets Draco push his arms up over his head and cast a spell, binding them there - he figures he owes him that, also Harry finds this oddly titillating. He groans softly as Draco chuckles.

 

“Do you need some incentive to keep talking perhaps?” Draco starts to move his fingers again, somehow seeming to find all Harry’s sensitive spots and teasing them ever so lightly, leaving Harry to crave more. When Harry doesn’t speak up, however, Draco stops again, causing Harry to finally catch on.

 

“I meant,” he tries to concentrate on finding the words, but just then Draco bends his head down to quickly touch Harry’s right nipple with his tongue, wetting it. Harry makes an effort to get the words out. “I should have… spoken up… when I… I…” Draco is now blowing air on his wet nipple, making it harden. Harry finds it increasingly hard to breathe.

 

“Yes?” Draco asks with a smile as he sits up, looking at Harry with an innocent smile. “You were saying?”

 

“I… When we moved here. After the bonding,” Draco lets his fingers start to trace patterns on Harry’s skin again. “That night, I just… Or actually it was the next morning that I… I realized I don’t hate you.” Draco looks at him now, the teasing smile is gone, replaced by a serious look. His fingers are still slowly tracing patterns on his skin, but it’s done absentmindedly. His look is intense and urges Harry to continue. “I realized that I might never have. I realized that the only reason I was upset with this all was because I thought you hated me and we had been forced into it. I… I realized already back then that I might…” Draco is almost still now, his fingers just touching Harry’s stomach, without moving. Harry feels himself blushing, looking into Draco’s intense eyes. “I might actually be glad this happened. I thought back through the years and saw that it’s always been you for me, as well,” he finishes. Draco doesn’t say anything, he just looks at Harry. Then a small smile is forming, a different kind than before.

 

“Enough talking, Gryffindor!” He grunts hoarsely and bends down to catch Harry’s lips with his before continuing his exploration where he left off.

 

*

 

Later, they are laying next to each other in Draco’s bed. Harry rests his head on his shoulder, smiling. Just as he’s thought, Draco’s skin is smooth all over. There is some body hair, but it is almost invisible and incredible soft. He feels content, regretting only that he didn’t talk to Draco earlier. They could have been sharing a bed for months already.

 

Draco’s fingers are playing with his hair. Soon they’ll have to get up and get dressed, as the baby will get brought back to them for the night. Already it feels odd that her crib is standing empty, but knowing she’s still close by and safe with her grandparents helps.

 

“Think about it, a week from now we’ll be out of these rooms and at the Manor, starting to plan and decorate the nursery. Mother has already started, but I was adamant that she’ll leave the big decisions to us.” Harry looks at Draco, blinking for a moment as he processes his words.

 

“The Manor? We won’t be living in the Manor!”

 

“Why not? Where else would we live?” Draco sounds honestly puzzled.

 

“Somewhere where I haven’t almost died? Where my friends haven’t been held captured and tortured?” Draco actually blushes at that, but doesn’t look like he’s changing his mind.

 

“Where would you suggest we’d live then?” He asks.

 

“We could live with Sirius and Remus. Until we get our own place, at least.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“They’re living at the Black-residence, right?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’ve been there on several occasions as a child. I’m not revisiting. Ever.” There is a finality to Draco’s statement. Harry considers asking about it, but senses that right now isn’t the right moment.

 

“I guess staying at the Burrow until we get our own place is also out of the question?” Draco glares at him, as Harry guessed he would. They sit quietly for a moment.

 

“I couldn’t stomach living in the Manor at first, after _he_ was gone,” there was no need for Draco to elaborate who _he_ was. “Everywhere I went I was reminded of everything that had happened there.” Draco spoke with a faraway voice, looking at nothing as he was remembering. “Mother wasn’t faring much better. Father would not hear of moving though, the Manor has been in the Malfoy family for generations. Instead, we did some extensive renovations. It’s still the same house, but it looks quite different. At the end of the summer, before coming to Hogwarts, I was still at times reminded of what had happened there, but less and less each day. Maybe you could get used to it as well? The gardens are beautiful, perfect for a small child to play with. There is a great lake nearby as well. You visited during our bonding-ceremony, it didn’t seem to hit you that bad then? Your friends seemed okay with being there as well.” There is a imploring note to Draco’s voice. Harry looks at him.

 

“I don’t know. During the ceremony, I was so messed up by it all that I didn’t actually think about it… I guess I’d get used to it though, but still… Wouldn’t you prefer living in London? Somewhere more modern? We could get our own place.”

 

“London is nice for visits, but do you really want to live there? Do you think it is suitable for a child? Think about all the open space she’ll have at the Manor.” He must’ve seen that Harry is wavering in his resolve to say no, as he adds the argument that finally wins Harry over. “I’ll let you name her Lily.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, I don’t like it though. But I guess if you can get used to living in the Manor, I can get used to my heir being a flower-child,” he smiles a little as he speaks.

 

*

 

_End of July, leaving Hogwarts_

 

They have packed all their things. Lily is sleeping in the baby wrap Harry got for her from Hermione.

 

“I can’t believe I’m leaving Hogwarts to go and live under the same roof as Lucius Malfoy,” Harry sighs to himself, disbelieving.

 

“What’s wrong with my father?” Harry turns to look at his husband, an eyebrow raised.

 

“Not much. He just tried to kill me a time or several. But, you know, no big deal. Bygones and all that,” Harry makes sure the sarcasm in his voice is noticeable.

 

“That was politics. We’re all family now.” Draco looks at Harry with such a stern and almost affronted look on his face that Harry can’t help but love him. He throws an arm around his shoulders and draws him close.

 

“Yeah. Family. You, me, Lily, Narcissa _and_ Lucius. Who’d ever have thought that possible?”

 

“You’re forgetting my godfather. He lives at the Manor as well. He’s also family.” Harry freezes and takes down his arm, turning instead to look at his husband, shock written all over his face.

 

“Please, tell me your godfather isn’t who I think it is!” Harry hears the panic in his voice.

 

“I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before. Don’t worry, you and Severus will learn to love… well, like... Or at least tolerate, each other,” Draco says with a bright, false smile.

 

“Snape. I’ll be living with Snape? Learning to tolerate… I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t kill me!”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure he won’t do anything worse than temporarily maim you at times.”

 

*

 

Standing outside the Manor, Draco at his side and Lily still sleeping, Harry looks up at his new home. This should surely be interesting. If he survives.

 

The door opens and Narcissa, Lucius and Severus Snape steps out to welcome the rest of their family home.

 

 **THE END** (of part one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little fluffy story :) I'm planning a not-so fluffy sequel, where Severus Snape gets to be the one who tells you all about life in the Manor after the addition of Harry and Lily to the Malfoy-family... :)


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